Complexity
by ChocolateEclar
Summary: Post Deathly Hallows series of tales. In which Snape now has a portrait and Al Potter goes to Hogwarts and talks with the people who share his name. A continuation of my oneshot ‘Curiosity.’
1. Eternity

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings, and their cousins.**

**A/N: This fanfic will be a series of loosely connected stories about the happenings in the headmasters/mistress's office. It is a continuation of my one-shot **_**Curiosity **_**and may not go in chronological order. Please read **_**Curiosity**_** first before reading this. It's not too important, but it'll cause later chapter to make much more sense.**

**A/N 2: Oh yeah, once again I have to say that I am aware that JKR said that McGonagall would not be the headmistress now, but I didn't want to create a whole new character for this. Also, if you have not read Harry Potter 7, WHY ARE YOU HERE? (Stop reading unless you like spoilers.)**

**EDIT: I changed a bit of wording around in this. Basically the same thing, but it definitely would help if my grandmother hadn't snatched up my book right after I read it.**

Summary: _Post Deathly Hallows series of tales. In which Snape now has a portrait and Al Potter goes to Hogwarts and talks with the people who share his name. (A continuation of my oneshot 'Curiosity.')_

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**Chapter One: Eternity**

There is curious sensation, like paint brushes being swept across his skin, and little flashes of light behind his eyelids. Then, almost as suddenly as the feelings started, they subside and he opens his dark eyes to discover what has happened with the world now.

He is looking down upon an office filled with books and an old, empty bird perch and a host of cabinets and glass cases filled with silver instruments and other oddities. There is a man sitting on the visitor's side of the desk smiling up at the space beside him on the wall. He leans a little forward to see that the space is occupied by a portrait of an old man with half-moon spectacles.

The man in the chair and the old wizard in the portrait are discussing something to do with ministry policies but stop abruptly when they realize that there is someone else listening.

"Hullo, Professor," says Harry Potter matter-of-factly to the newcomer.

"Potter," replies Snape slowly. The hair and eyes are the same, but Harry Potter is definitely older than when he last saw him. That brings forth thoughts of a snake bearing down on him and memories and blood pouring thickly out of his body. He fights the urge to shudder.

"Harry has made it possible for you to be here, Severus," says Dumbledore fondly. "With your sudden departure from the school through a window, the office felt you had abandoned your post, so of course no picture of you resided here."

"Ministry wasn't fond of the idea," explains Harry. "I had a hard time convincing anyone there that you had to be placed here. It wasn't until Kingsley became minister and things settled down that anything really got done."

"The memories – " begins Snape, as a sudden annoying thought crosses his mind.

"Were never seen by anyone except me," Harry insists. He starts to say something else when a sudden cry pierces through the air. He reaches down to sooth the bundle in the baby carrier on the floor that Snape had not noticed before. Inside, he can barely glimpse a bit of dark hair peeking out from under a blanket embroidered with tiny Golden Snitches, but curiosity makes it hard not to wish to see what color the baby's eyes are.

"Shh, I'm here, James," mutters Harry gently, as his face glows with happiness. Somehow this does not bother Snape much. It is not as if he had expected Harry to name the baby after _him_.

"Ginny might've come too today for your, er, awakening," says Harry, "but she wanted to be with Hermione in the event of labor. Ron won't know what to do." He chuckles softly and smiles affectionately at the baby.

"You have time to think of my portrait's appearance on this wall around your little happily ever after?" asks Snape, sneering.

Despite the mutters of disapproval from some of the other portraits, Harry laughs and replies, "Least I could do. I really wanted to talk to you, and McGonagall, she's the headmistress now, didn't seem to mind seeing you again either."

They talk for a little while, although Snape is mostly interested in how Harry has managed to survive despite Dumbledore's insistence that he had to die.

"Oh, I sort of did die," Harry says. His voice is almost flippant, but there is something about the look in his eyes that speaks volumes about how the experience has changed him.

"And you killed the Dark Lord," says Snape.

"Yes, although you should know that Neville pretty much avenged you," replies Harry.

"Longbottom," says Snape doubtfully, as he raises one eyebrow. He remembers the boy running around causing all sorts of mischief in the name of Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army the year he was headmaster, but he still cannot quite get past the image of the foolish child blowing up cauldrons.

"He killed Nagini," states Harry. "With a sword."

"The same sword you retrieved from a forest?" asks Snape carefully.

"The very same," Harry replies happily. "It was perfect."

"And he lived?"

"I made sure of it," says Harry a little fiercely.

They discuss a few more events that Snape missed by dying that night, and Snape seems a bit amused to hear of Bellatrix Lestrange's end.

"My cousin Dudley, you know, my aunt Petunia's son, had a kid four years ago," Harry remarks. "I'm almost certain he'll be a wizard." He is grinning a little at the prospect.

"Petunia will find that upsetting," replies Snape simply. They do not talk about how he knows Harry's aunt, although Harry looks at Snape peculiarly for a moment.

"You'd be surprised," he finally says. "She almost seemed a bit sad that I might be going off to die when I left them." He pauses and adds thoughtfully, "She wanted to go to Hogwarts."

"Jealousy is a powerful motive for hating your own sister."

"I think the guilt might actually lead her to accept a wizard grandson," Harry notes.

They say little after that, although Dumbledore interrupts the silence to inquire about people and places Snape does not care about. He settles back in his chair and is not surprised when Harry finally stands up, holding the baby carrier, and says, "It was good talking." Snape nods, and Harry leaves with one last glance at the Quidditch pitch down below one of the windows.

"Do you mind joining us here, Severus?" asks Dumbledore after a moment.

"It's… thought-provoking," Snape replies.

"Certainly," says Dumbledore. "Seven years is a long time to be gone. There are new teachers and new students, and there are old students who have grown up."

Snape nods and watches the sun go down through a window, as the other portraits talk amongst themselves. An eternity in that office might not be so bad. Well, as long as Dumbledore did not offer him any sweets every day. _That_ might get irritating.

He smiles just a little as something inside of him relaxes.

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**A/N: The eternity with Dumbledore offering Snape sweets idea came from an episode of Mugglecast (#102) on the site Mugglenet in which they wondered about what Snape and Dumbledore would talk about as portraits.**

**A/N 2: Please review. I should have the next chapter up really soon. (We meet Al Potter again in the middle of the night.)**


	2. Civility

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings, and their cousins.**

**A/N: The events of this chapter take place approximately one year after those told in '_Curiosity_,' my one-shot.**

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**Chapter Two: Civility**

Snape can hear the boy coming to the office above the loud hum of Armando Dippet snoring. Normally, it is difficult to hear anything but the swish of the invisibility cloak on the stairs or the quiet shuffle of feet. That day, however, the boy is panting and practically launching himself up the staircase.

The door opens with a small bang as the boy hurriedly yelps out a spell and then tumbles into the office. He is taller than when Snape first saw him, although no older than his father was when he killed a basilisk in his second year. His hair is pointing in all sorts of wild directions, like a dark, furry animal resting on his head.

"Professor Snape!" Albus Severus Potter calls out frantically.

"Must you be so loud, boy – " hisses Phineas Nigellus before he is interrupted by the normally polite boy for once.

"Yes!" he yells. "Yes, I must!" And then he takes a deep breath and adds, "Sorry, sir." He raises his lighted wand and reveals a strained, panic-stricken face with freckles spattered across his nose. "Professor Snape," he says, stepping farther into the office and craning his neck up at Snape. Al seems to search Snape's portrait's painted face for a moment, and when the Potions Master just arches one eyebrow at him emotionlessly, he decides to just skip over the explanations. "I need to know how to cure someone who's been poisoned by Doxycide."

His voice is level, but his green eyes are wide. Snape wonders if the boy knows the power of those eyes, and, if so, if he is using them against him purposefully. Finally, when Dumbledore is finally roused from sleep (Snape has no idea how he could sleep with Dippet's continuous snoring), he says curtly, "I suspect it is your brother that has foolishly managed to ingest a potion only meant to deal with Doxies." He smirks at the blood that rushes to Al's face and continues, "A bezoar should accomplish the task. I expected your father to tell you that much. It was, after all, _all_ he learned in my class."

Al shakes his head in annoyance. "Of course I tried _that_!" he grumbles. "That's the first thing I stuffed down his throat. But it didn't help much. I think it bought me some time though."

"There is a hospital wing for this sort of problem," Snape says.

"Yes, but Malfoy changed his mind after he launched the Doxycide Barrage Bomb at James when he saw James' face turn purple, and now if we take James to Madam Pomfrey, Malfoy will probably get expelled," Al insists. "Of course," he adds thoughtfully, "his dad could probably rescue him out of that one way or another."

"Malfoy?" asks Snape.

"_Scorpius_ Malfoy," supplies Dumbledore with a sigh. "I am appalled by how little you pay attention to what goes on in this office, Severus." Despite his words, he is smiling and his eyes twinkle amusedly.

"Draco's son," Snape states. He says nothing else, although Al is twirling his wand in his hand nervously.

"Yeah, James and I were trying to get into the Room of Requirement when we ran into him doing the exact same thing," he sighs. "My aunt Hermione says James and Malfoy are just like my dad and his dad, but I don't think Malfoy's trying to sneak in Death Eaters or anything like that. James mostly has a problem with Malfoy because our cousin Rose seems to like him a bit. Mum says that makes James like Uncle Ron." He is speaking quickly now, as he no doubt realizes that he has been away from his brother for a half-hour.

"Maybe Rose will have found the answer in a book by now," he finally mutters and turns to leave.

"Boomslang skin, crushed snake fangs, dried nettles, and another bezoar," says Snape, as Al reaches for the door.

Al turns back to him with a wonder on his face that makes Snape scowl back just to fight off the feelings it invokes. "Boil it all in water for two minutes," he continues.

"Thank you!" Al squeaks. He bounds halfway down the stairs before he realizes that he has forgotten half of the ingredients in his sudden joy. Partially covered in the invisibility cloak, he pokes his head back into the office and Snape sourly repeats the potion. "Sorry," says Al. "Thanks." And then he is hurrying down the stairs again.

The portraits are buzzing amongst themselves for a few minutes before Dumbledore says serenely, "So, he came to you for help, Severus."

Snape laughs coldly and sneers. "I highly doubt he would have done so if he had not been afraid of him and his little friends getting in trouble for sneaking around."

"And yet," replies Dumbledore, "the fact remains that one little twelve year old trusts that you will assist him."

"A foolish Potter trust," hisses Snape.

"Trust does seem to be the key theme among them, as well as courage, I'll admit," says Dumbledore. "But I would not think it such a vice in some circumstances."

There is something unspoken between them because it causes too much pain. However, Snape knows that trust led Lily and James Potter to use Peter Pettigrew when they were hiding, and it was himself that caused such a need in the first place.

When Albus Severus Potter returns to the office a week later with news of his brother's instant recovery, Snape at least tries to be a little more civil to the boy.

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**A/N: Please review. I really like Al, so of course expect more of him and his nightly exploits in future chapters.**


	3. Capacity for mischief

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings, and their cousins.**

**A/N: A few years later now. In which there is a fifth-year Al in the office… Oh yeah, and James' seventeenth birthday arrives.**

**A/N 2: Also, I changed some minor dialogue in chapter one. I pretty much just made some things statements instead of questions.**

**Thank you to the reviewers!**

**EDIT: Sorry for the confusion. The Fred mentioned in this chapter is George's son, who has graduated Hogwarts and works in the joke shop by the time Al is in his fifth year.**

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**Chapter Three: Capacity (for mischief)**

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall is sitting at her desk, one afternoon in April, reading through various letters that had been brought by three owls, while simultaneously listening to the story of a very annoyed teacher. "I didn't want to involve you," claims the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, "but I really do think they are up to something."

Unlike the other snoring portraits, Snape's is listening because of the mention of the names involved in the complaint. There are a ridiculous amount of Weasleys and Potters running around the school causing mischief, and he is not overly surprised that the boy named after him and Dumbledore is involved. Despite being a fifth-year Gryffindor prefect, Albus Severus Potter still frequently appears in the office at night to talk to the portraits and always hints about possible exploits he is involved in. Just two weeks before, he had said, "My cousins, my sister, and I are planning the best coming-of-age party for James in history. It may involve Uncle George's fireworks in the common room, although my cousin Fred, who works at the joke shop, isn't quite sure he can sneak them through the post to us without them setting off."

Snape had said, "Oh, what a surprise. A Potter breaking the rules for his own pleasure. I was beginning to wonder what the world was becoming."

Al had smirked at him knowingly and said, "C'mon. We have to do something spectacular. Uncle George would never forgive us for being _tame_. I'm worried that if we get caught we'll get really terrible howlers from my grandmother though." Snape wanted to get rid of that meaningful, almost Dumbledore-like, smirk, but nothing he had thrown at the boy over the last five years seemed to faze him. (That is, except for the time when Al had been eleven and Snape had remarked loudly that the boy must be very lonely for all the time he spends up in the office talking to dead people. That had been the only time the boy had looked something close to upset and the other portraits had silenced. Finally, Dumbledore had sighed and said, "You are doing us a great favor by bringing us some fresh news, Albus." No one had spoken about the incident since, including Snape.)

Snape remembers the children in the office at two o'clock in the morning the night of the second James Potter's seventeenth birthday in front of McGonagall trying to weasel their way out of too much punishment. Of course, all of them – including the three Potter siblings, the Weasley children, and the Malfoy boy – had spent a week down in the dungeon scrubbing cauldrons for Slughorn, although Snape did not think that was much of a punishment unless you hated Slughorn. Otherwise, it was all tea and stories. (And why hadn't that man retired again? He was always complaining about being too old, and yet Slughorn never seemed to want to leave now that he was back. Snape has a suspicion it has something to do with all of the famous people's children coming to school now.)

McGonagall had wanted to know what exactly Scorpius Malfoy had been doing in the Gryffindor common room, being a Slytherin and all, but he and Rose Weasley had just become faintly pink and insisted he had just come for the birthday party.

Presently, McGonagall reaches into her desk drawer to pull out some frighteningly old muggle sweets that had been there since before she became headmistress (which naturally means that they are Dumbledore's and that McGonagall will never have the heart to throw them out). She tips a few peppermint candies out of her hand and the three owls gobble them up happily.

After the owls have eaten their fill, she says, "Let me summarize what you have just told me. You wish me to believe that Albus, James, and Lily Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, and Hugo and Rose Weasley are trying to bring the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets back to life. Is that correct?"

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Miriam Rosewater, took the post that year after the old one spent a blissful twenty-four years teaching the job that was no longer cursed. McGonagall had found her competent enough for the position, but then Rosewater had, for some reason, taken an immediate dislike to the Potter-Weasley-Malfoy gang. Ever since she had been hired, she had been coming to McGonagall with theories about Dark Arts that somehow involved those mischievous students.

Even Snape has to admit, the woman really has no idea what she is discussing. He has spent enough nights talking to and listening to Al Potter, to know that he is not a potential Death Eater or a Tom Riddle wannabe. (Scorpius Malfoy is even dating a Weasley for Pete's sake!) As for Al's brother James, he is no more a prat than his namesake, as far as Snape can tell.

He is not surprised when McGonagall lets out a sigh and says, "Miriam, do you have any proof of this?"

"Just look them in the eyes," squawks Rosewater.

She continues to blab nonsense, but Snape stops listening when there is the tiniest sound of someone bumping into a cupboard. He narrows his eyes at the seemingly empty space and waits for McGonagall to urge Rosewater out of the office with her for some of 'Madam Pomfrey's nerve-soothing tea.' Then, he snarls, "Out with you, Potter. You may think yourself invincible, but if I had revealed your presence just now, you would have had worse than Rosewater to manage."

There is a moment of silence and then a head appears, seemingly floating in midair. "Sorry, I just wanted to hear what Professor Rosewater had to say about me," Albus Severus Potter says. "After all, last time I was here, Phineas Nigellus did want to know what sort of Dark Arts I could possibly know being so – what did he say? – ah yes, so 'dunderheaded.' And then he told me about how the professor's always in here about me and my family."

It is broad daylight, and yet Al removes the cloak and walks towards McGonagall's desk. He appears to be trying to grow out his hair with about as terrible results as when he put a spell on it in his third year to make it blond. It had been an attempt to stop people from gawking at him like he was his father. It just succeeded in making him look like a Malfoy and even Scorpius had told him it looked dreadful.

"Are you ever in class, Potter?" Snape finally asks.

"It's Sunday actually," Al explains to the portrait. "And besides, everyone's off practicing for Quidditch. Score might as well be on the Gryffindor team. He spends so much time with Rose in the stands during practices."

Suddenly awake, Dumbledore yawns and does not seem at all surprised to see a student in the headmistress' office on a Sunday afternoon when no one else is there. "Good day, Albus," he addresses the boy.

"Hi, professor," replies Al, as he allows one of the three little owls to perch on his palm. The young owl is small and white but not nearly as tiny as Al's uncle's owl Pigwidgeon.

"Pardon my intrusion, but you seem to be discussing Quidditch, so I must ask how your team is faring this year," Dumbledore says.

"Oh, we'd probably be doing worse if Scorpius actually watched the Gryffindor practices instead of watching _Rose_," Al answers with a grin. "He's a Slytherin Chaser. James is much better as a Keeper than a Seeker, we found out this year. It's pretty ridiculous, though, seeing as it's his second to last year. You'd think they'd have learned by now that he isn't quick enough. I mean, he isn't my dad or anything. Hugo was happy to give up the post to him. He does positively brilliant commentary with Lily instead." He pauses and shrugs. "All in all, I'd say we'll probably win the cup this year. Slytherin only won last year because James got hit with a Bludger and passed out."

"Arrogance, boy," remarks Phineas Nigellus, who has also awakened.

"_Truth_, sir," Al insists. Snape really wishes to discover how the Gryffindor had become Slytherin-proof. However, to have been painted with a vial of Veritaserum would have been useful but ultimately impractical unless he wanted to pour some down his fellow portraits' throats. "James was the Seeker. We certainly didn't have a chance after he got rather forcefully taken out of the game." He stops and smirks. "Of course, what do I know about Quidditch? My mum was on the Holyhead Harpies and now she writes about Quidditch at the _Prophet_, but I still won't get on a broom to save my life… Okay, _maybe_ to save my life."

Some of the portraits make indignant squawks when even their favorite student leans across McGonagall's desk to read the letters the owls had brought. "Don't worry," mutters Al. "I know at least one of these has to do with me."

"How do you know that, Mr. Potter?" squeaks Dilys Derwent crossly.

"Simple," replies Al, as he lifts up the hand with the small, white owl still resting in the palm. "This is one of my dad's owls." The owl nips at Al's thumbnail, causing him to scold, "Wiggy!"

He sets the owl down on the desk again and pats a larger, gray owl. "This one is a Ministry owl I've seen before," Al says. "She brought my aunt Hermione a huge book one time when she insisted on working at home despite being seven degrees of sick.

"Dolores, aren't you?" he asks the owl. The owl nearly snaps off his fingers before he can step back. "Oh, yeah, I forgot who you're named after," Al mutters. Protectively, the white owl flies up and sits on Al's shoulder and hisses at the menacing owl. The last owl just eyes them groggily and then falls asleep. Al does not quite dare to touch it.

He picks up one roll of parchment and says, "This is my dad's." He smoothes it out across his knees and then holds it up to read.

"Oh, wonderful," he finally states sarcastically. "My dad's been pushed by my grandma to enlist everyone who was at James' birthday party causing the mess in the common room to clean the Burrow top to bottom over the holidays. _Splendid_. Says here that that should be a good punishment for blowing a hole in the side of the castle from the inside with a firework. Huh. Good. At least our 'supplier' Fred will be helping too. He just had to give us a volatile batch of fireworks…I wonder if they'll make Scorpius come too. People might have fits though…"

The white owl hoots a little when there are footsteps on the moving staircase up to the office. Al drops the parchment back on the desk and places the owl on top of it. By the time McGonagall opens the door, Al is already safely in a corner under the invisibility cloak.

"I believe it's time to look for a new Defense the Dark Arts teacher for next year," McGonagall says.

"A hazardous job, I am afraid," Dumbledore comments. He is addressing McGonagall but his eyes are on the space in the corner.

"It's a pity those students seem to have driven her to this," says a portrait sleepily. McGonagall nods.

The white owl flies up and lands on Al's invisible head. Al lets out a sound something like a gasp and a grunt and tries to shake the owl off.

Snape smirks and watches but makes no move to help or hinder the boy from being noticed by McGonagall. McGonagall goes to her desk to finish writing a letter, as Al manages to get the owl away from him by prodding it with his wand from inside the cloak. The owl hoots indignantly and flies back to the desk. McGonagall attaches a letter addressed to Harry Potter that Snape knows the boy hidden in the room is dying to read.

The white owl soars out an open window and when McGonagall leaves the office to go down to the Great Hall, Snape can hear the swish of the cloak and the squeak of shoes as the boy quickly slips out after her.

"He will fly after the owl on a broom to find out what is written there," he comments dryly.

"Rather fortunately, I doubt that," replies Dumbledore. "This is not a life or death situation and Albus Potter is not quite enough like his father to try it."

Snape starts to retort something when a broom with a boy on it goes streaking past the window after the shrinking shape of the owl.

Dumbledore sighs. "Fine, Severus. You are becoming a bit too good at predicting the actions of Potters."

"We were both wrong," states Snape. "That boy was not the younger Potter, but the elder. Presumably, Albus Potter told his brother what was in the letter out on the Quidditch pitch and James Potter went after the owl." Dumbledore chuckles, and they wait silently for the boy to come back on the broom.

* * *

A week later, Dilys Derwent asks Al Potter what was in that letter. It is a normal nightly visit and the boy's face is illuminated by only his wand and a thin moon. He grins sheepishly and replies, "Nothing really. Just asking if Scorpius' dad had been informed of the Burrow cleaning plan. Apparently he had, but my uncle Ron hadn't and heard it from Mr. Malfoy at the ministry when he made a comment in passing. Uncle Ron sent a rather annoyed letter to Rose this week telling her that if Scorpius tried to pull anything on her, he'd punch Draco Malfoy in the face. Another letter came for Rose a day later from my aunt Hermione telling her not to mind my uncle's threats." 

"So will Scorpius Malfoy be among the cleaning crew at the Burrow?" asks Dumbledore.

"Yeah, apparently it'll build character or something since Scorpius doesn't generally have to clean his mansion or whatever," Al says dismissively. "Score isn't bad though. He certainly hasn't thrown any Doxycide Barrage Bombs at one of us since our second year." He smiles a little and glances at Snape, who is perusing a new potions book a young portrait entity had given him when he had been traveling around the network of portraits that afternoon. Half of the potions are written partially wrong or are complete rubbish. He had found a quill and ink and been scribbling all over the margins just out of habit. He did not, however, label anything 'For Enemies.' That was just asking for the Potters of the world to use them without knowing any Latin translations.

"Anyway," continues Al, "James sent the owl back on her way after he read the letter. He made sure the seal was fairly well replicated of course, and Mum and Dad didn't say anything, so it must've been all right."

Al chatters with some of the portraits for a moment – with Dippet on owls and with a rather fierce, little witch in a huge hat and purple robes on Quidditch – until finally he bites his lip and asks Snape, "Another Half-Blood Prince book?"

"You should tell Professor Slughorn the potion on page two hundred of this new book could kill several students by touch," states Snape from behind the book.

"What potion is it?" asks Al with a grimace.

"Foot Numbing Draught," Snape replies.

"Someone could be stupid enough to try that on someone as a joke," Al says thoughtfully. "What's so wrong with the ingredients?"

"Porcupine quills, daffodil bulbs, and oleander leaves," says Snape, "are a fairly lethal combination. It even suggests adding rhubarb leaf blades." He makes a disgruntled noise and draws a huge slash across the page.

"I'll tell him, although he might wonder how I know that when I have no Potions knowledge at all," Al says. "Maybe you should just tell Professor McGonagall tomorrow."

"It's actually more Herbology – " Snape starts to say and then stops when he notices the boy grinning at him. "But you _are_ too dunderheaded to understand that."

"Ooh, I remember everything Neville – excuse me – Professor Longbottom's ever said to me about that stuff," Al insists. "He ordered me to stop pitching green Lantana Camara berries at Scorpius' head once. I know those are poisonous now. Two years ago, James even made some genius Herbology Slytherin mad at him. He put some crushed up Deadly Nightshade and Water Hemlock in James' water right before a Quidditch match. We all thought he was going to die."

"I remember that," says an old man's portrait with a sallow face and black hair (_Everard Something-or-Other_, Snape thinks. When he was headmaster, he did not learn the names of all of the portraits because it was all Dumbledore – _save the students; don't allow them to come to harm, Severus_ – and more Dumbledore). "The boy was expelled."

"Well, yeah," says Al. "Those things are fatal unless you're a wizard who immediately knows something's amiss. James was in St. Mungo's for a week." He twirls his wand in his fingers over and over and adds, "James was humble after that." He glances at Snape again and continues softly, "And now Scorpius is on watch for any more poisoning Slytherins."

There is a moment when Al seems like he might say something more, but then he hops to his feet. He is as light as a young Seeker and still not all that tall at fifteen. It's a fairly good combination for a wizard duelist (which, despite the fact that there is no official dueling club at Hogwarts right then, he _is_. He runs a little Dumbledore's Army-like organization every Saturday in the Room of Requirement that McGonagall and most of the teachers know everything about. They mostly don't mind because no one's lost a limb and it isn't in existence because they aren't teaching the students enough because of some ministry rules; they just like to practice together). It makes him look like a young Harry Potter with freckles and no glasses. If, that is, Al's dad had a tendency to stick his wand behind his ear when he was not twirling it and to poke and prod at Snape's prickles at least once a week in that office.

"Well, bye, professors," Al calls out. He is answered by a chorus of voices. Several people wave goodbye to the boy, as he slips under the invisibility cloak and leaves the office.

* * *

**A/N: A considerably longer chapter than I thought it was going to be, but an older teenage Al just kept doing things. Please review! I know a bunch of you have put this story on your favorites and story alerts and not reviewed, and I would really, really like to know what you think (although I can tell that you like it at least).**

**(And no, I won't do anything evil if you don't review; I just like feedback. Just saying...)**

**A/N 2: Anyway, next chapter I may bring in some of the other kids for actual appearances in the office… I haven't decided yet. (I may need to go back to some of the years I skipped.)**


	4. Conformity or a lack thereof

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings, and their cousins.**** (I own Ben, Abigail, and Dittany too now.)**

**A/N: Thanks again to the reviewers!** **I actually wrote this chapter after I had already started two others, but the two others are connected and the second of which is not quite done yet, so I decided to post this one instead. (Al is twelve in this. This takes place a little after the events of chapter two with the Doxycide poisoning.)**

**Also, to reviewer Rachel, who wanted a Lily chapter, that's the first of the set I've been working on for a while. I don't really take requests, but you seem to have read my mind about what was to come, so I figured I'd mention it. (Lily is turning out to be a very different eleven year old than my Al in 'Curiosity.') **

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**Chapter Four: Conformity (or a lack thereof)**

Albus Potter is sitting on the floor of the office for ten minutes when the door is suddenly thrust open. No one heard the person coming, so there are shrieks from several portraits, and Al makes a dive for his invisibility cloak. Snape is almost impressed by the newcomer's silent entrance, but Al's reflexes are good as well.

It is too late, however, and the person entering the office yells, "_Expelliarmus_!" to remove Al's lit wand from his grasp and "_Impedimenta_!" to knock Al backwards and away from the cloak.

"Ben!" gasps Al when the other boy holds up his own lit wand. "What are you doing here?"

"I knew I'd find you here," proclaims the older boy. He is extremely tall with a round face and blond hair. "You can't just run around all over the place and not expect someone to follow you. I told James he couldn't do it either. I snatched that silly map from him."

"What are you talking about?" Al hollers. "I've been coming here to talk to these people for two years now! And you snitched the Marauder's Map off of my brother? What are you going to do now? Take away the cloak?"

"I'm Head Boy and you've been caught out of bed," states Ben neutrally.

"What?" yelps Al. "You're like my second cousin or something for Pete's sake!"

"Come on," says Ben. "I'll only take ten points from Gryffindor if you come along back to bed now."

"But I've just gotten here – " begins Al in panic. He gazes wildly around and then takes a deep breath. Calmly, he adds, "Benjamin Dudley Dursley, _please_. I'm barely doing anything wrong at all. We're just talking. You can ask any of them."

"I'm sorry, Al," says Ben. "Am I going to have to tell the headmistress you've been coming up here?" he asks.

"I ought to tell your grandpa Vernon about you waving your wizard Head Boy status all over the place," Al mutters. "He hates all of _this_ as it is!"

"You do that," Ben says. "He probably won't believe you though. And besides, he and I have a love-hate relationship. He loves me, but I am one of '_those_ _people_,' after all, even if I am just a muggle-born." He crosses his arm and taps his wand on his leg impatiently. "Do I have to do a full body-bind curse on you?"

"No, but I may do something nasty in the future," Al says, as he sulks.

"Don't be in a funk," says Ben cheerfully, as Al stands up and grabs his wand and invisibility cloak.

"Expect some Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products, cousin," Al replies darkly.

"Cheer up," insists Ben. "I'll be graduating in three months."

"Merlin's pointy hat, I will be glad of that," declares Al theatrically. "Then you can go into law enforcement or something. You're a regular Uncle Percy."

"You're just like Dexter," sighs Ben, "except my little brother doesn't have a bit of magic in his body."

"At least that means he doesn't have a big-headed, Hufflepuff Head Boy breathing down his neck during the school year," Al groans.

"Al, don't be like that," says Ben, as he opens the door for them. "The real reason I'm here is I'm a little worried that you don't talk to people enough. Every time I see you you're talking about being up here during the night." He sighs and addresses the portraits, "No offense, but you lot aren't quite substantial."

"And what if they aren't?" Al mutters. "I like talking to them because it makes them happy. They're portraits! If they aren't talking, they just sleep all day."

"_Al_."

"And it's only once a week!"

"C'mon, Al – "

Al grunts and launches himself down the staircase, taking two steps at a time. Ben grimaces apologetically and then follows. A long silence fills the office until several portraits begin to loudly converse.

It takes about a half-hour, but Al reappears, panting and hiding under his cloak, back in the office. "Gave 'im the slip," he mutters, as he collapses on the floor. His head emerges, but he keeps the rest of his body under the cloak.

He coughs and says, "Sorry about that. He's a pain. I know perfectly well you're all dead." He shrugs and says, "I guess I'll just have to change up my schedule for a while, so he can't catch me up here again."

"You shan't come up here for our sakes," insists a witch with a powdered wig.

"Oh, it's no problem," Al replies. "I like it up here. It's a good place to think, and if I ever become a teacher, I'd like to work my way up to being a headmaster and be in this office as much as I want."

"You think you might be a teacher?" asks Dilys Derwent curiously.

"Oh, yeah," Al answers. "I like Hogwarts – and I don't mean that in an 'it's-my-only-home-and-I'm-Lord-Voldemort' kind of way – and I'm good at Transfiguration. I was thinking about becoming an illegal Animagus just for fun…" He bursts out laughing at the exasperated expression on Snape's face. "I'm kidding! I'd become the legal kind at least. James is the one with those rebellious ideas anyway. I think it comes of him being named after two unregistered Animagus."

"Albus," says a motherly witch with a sheet of reddish blonde hair and glasses on the tip of her nose. "You really do talk to people your own age, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," replies Al, as he leans back on his hands and taps his feet on the ground. "Besides having a boatload of Weasley cousins, I get along with my house all right. Ben's the stupid meddling Hufflepuff. I think his dad might've put him up to it. My dad and him never really got along growing up, and I think Uncle Dudley feels a bit bad for it. His dad, my dad's Uncle Vernon, is an absolute freak about hating magic."

"Surely it isn't that bad?" says the witch.

"Oh yeah?" Al says with a snort. "Sometimes Uncle Dudley invites my family over for tea and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia come too just because Uncle Dudley didn't tell them we were going to be there. It's sort of awkward, especially since my dad doesn't even get mad. He just sort of accepts it and smiles. James said some nasty things the last time we were there. I thought Uncle Vernon might explode.

"But back to me having friends or not," Al continues, sitting up straight again and smirking a little, "I do, but only a few close ones, which is really no different than my dad. I mean, in my year, I have Scorpius Malfoy and Dittany Longbottom – who refuses to tell me if she was joking when she told me her middle name is 'Mimbulus Mimbletonia' – and Abigail Abbott, among other people. And that's not including the dozens of relatives. Believe me, you guys are not hurting my social life or anything."

"You say that this year," remarks Everard, "but what about last year? Were we your only friends?" It is the closest they ever get to talking about the time when Snape had asked why Al spent so much time with dead people, and the implication makes Al frown.

"Last year was… _different_," Al says slowly, while staring at his trainers thoughtfully. "I didn't hang out with Scorpius until after he felt bad for poisoning James this year and Abby wasn't much for talking to _anyone_, but I became good friends with Dittany at the start-of-year feast and her dad, Professor Longbottom, has been a friend of the family for ages." Sighing, he stands up and looks at all of the portraits staring back at him or sleeping through his visit. Something flickers across his features and then is replaced with a smile. This time, the smile is fake and uncertain. Strangely enough, Snape understands it. It is the smile of someone unsure if his or her friend is trying to push them away purposefully and indecisive on what to do about it.

"You're leaving, Mr. Potter?" asks Dippet with a warm smile.

That seems to set aside some of Al's doubts, as he replies, "Yeah, I need some rest after that running-through-the castle-trying-to-lose-Ben business."

Snape glances at Dumbledore, knowing that the man will know what to do about an upset preteen far better than him (because he, personally, just wants to yell at the boy to get over this fear of them not talking to him anymore already), and meets the blue eyes. Dumbledore is smiling sadly, but he nods and turns to address Al. Snape crosses his arms and watches.

"Albus," he says. Al looks up at him curiously and waits. "We are still here for you," continues Dumbledore. "We will always be, as long as you need us."

"Thanks," mutters Al.

"Oh, and, in the event you need more proof that you are welcome here, Professor Snape agrees with me," Dumbledore adds.

Snape snorts and turns away.

"I know," Al says. "And you said something similar once, didn't you? Something like, 'As long as there are people at the school who believe in you, you'll always be here.' My dad mentioned it once."

"Something quite like that," Dumbledore replies, while smiling fondly at him.

Nodding, Al says, "I'll be back sometime next week, professors," and heads out of the office with a little spring in his step.

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**A/N: If you're wondering, yes, Ben Du****rsley is the boy Harry mentioned Dudley having in chapter one (he's four years older than James and five years older than Al). He's strangely Percy-like for being Dudley's son. The Dudley Dursley family isn't exactly having tea with the Harry Potter family every week, but they are on speaking terms, especially with Dudley having a muggleborn son and needing advice.**

**A/N 2: Neville's daughter **_**had**_** to have a plant name of course. Thus, I went for Dittany, since I like the look of the various flowers with that name. It's also the thing Snape says Draco should put on to prevent scarring after Harry hits him with the Sectumsempra in book six. (Oh yeah, and Mimbulus Mimbletonia is said, at some point, to be Neville's favorite plant.)**

**A/N 3: Next chapter… We'll finally meet Lily Potter during Al's third year (and her first) when Al is unable to come to the office. Oh yeah, and please review! Thanks!**


	5. Vulnerability

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.**

**A/N: Thanks again to all of the reviewers! And to whitehound, thanks for the help. I try to stay away from Americanisms (i.e. candy vs. sweets), but it's hard being an American and all. Feel free to continue to point out any issues I have. Also, Snape will be showing subtle differences over time, notably so far at the end of the upcoming chapter six I think.**

**Thanks again, everyone! Now for the Lily chapter. :) **

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**Chapter Five: Vulnerability**

Snape hears the door open but decides to feign sleep so the boy will talk to someone else that night. A week before, third-year Albus Potter had come to the office in the dead of night wanting to know about the first war with Voldemort from a host of different perspectives. "I've heard my dad talk about my grandparents – the ones my brother and sister are named for, that is – and I've listened to Dromeda when I've gone to see Teddy, as well as a bunch of other people," Al had explained. "But mostly people just talk about the second war. I like history, although I admit I can't stay awake in History of Magic, so I figured I'd ask you all."

And so, like a reporter, albeit without a Quick-Quotes Quill, he had sat in the middle of the room talking to all of the portraits who remembered. Most of them had not even been alive during the time, but they had been in that office or in other portraits hearing the stories and so seen quite a lot.

Needless to say, Snape is reluctant for a repeat performance. (The boy had tried to get him to talk about being a spy but then backed off with a sort of curious expression lingering on his face when Snape had yelled at him – "Must you stick your nose where it does not belong, Potter?" Al's next question had been for Dumbledore.)

Today, the footsteps in the room are different though. Perhaps lighter. Snape opens his eyes again to watch this new intruder. A small hand emerges from the cloak holding a thin wand perhaps ten inches long with a light on the end. Finally, the rest of the person is revealed when the child tosses off the cloak.

Snape stares at the little girl with a sneer dying on his lips. Her brown eyes are wide, as she takes in the room that she has never been in before, and her hair is shockingly vibrant red, even in the relative darkness.

"Hi," she says boldly.

"Let me guess," says Phineas Nigellus grumpily. "Another Potter?"

"Er, yes," replies the girl. "I'm Lily. My brother Al, you see, is sick, so he sent me to talk to all of you, since it's, er, tradition."

"That's considerate," mutters Dilys Derwent.

"How do you children keep discovering the password for this office?" Phineas Nigellus hisses.

"You'd have to ask Al," replies Lily with a shrug.

"I am a healer," says Dilys Derwent. "What seems to be wrong with your brother?"

"Oh, scrofungulus," Lily answers. "The whole school just got new spells placed on it since it's so contagious."

"Oh, that is too bad," the healer says. "Is he having the hallucinations then?"

"Yeah," replies Lily. "'Definitely worse than a boggart,' he said. He was screaming something awful the night we brought him to St. Mungo's. I think he might've seen some of the stuff you lot talked to him about last week. Figures. He's always been the cat that gets bitten by curiosity." She grimaces and adds, "Not that it's your fault he's sick or anything. He caught it from Colette Creevey.

"He also was hallucinating about the time when he got bitten by a dog and thought he was a werewolf for a week," continues Lily. "He didn't show anyone the bite because he was too terrified. I was about four so I didn't know what was up with him. Teddy finally got him to say what was wrong. It was infected and disgusting but not a werewolf bite."

"How is Mr. Lupin?" asks Dumbledore.

"Teddy? He's good," replies Lily. "My cousin Victoire and him will probably do something loopy and elope any day now. Not that the family objects or anything. It's just that they're two romantics." She clutches at her heart theatrically and bats her eyelashes.

"You know," she comments, "it really is sort of nice to talk to you lot. I had my reservations – no offense – but I might make Al take me every once in a while. Although, I haven't gotten to talk to Professor Snape yet, and that just _has_ to be fixed."

She turns her bright gaze to Snape's portrait. She is vocal and a bit brash and there is a spark of her namesake in her smile. But those are not Lily Evans Potter's eyes, nor is that red hair quite her shade. It's small, but it's enough.

"Yes, Miss Potter?" Snape says, sneering.

"Al speaks about you sometimes," Lily states. "He says you're silent unless you feel the need to make a biting comment and that, really, you aren't that bad. I want to see that for myself."

"Do you have the extensive knowledge about me that your brother seems to possess?"

Lily smiles sadly. "I think so," she sighs. "My dad told us once that you were great friends with our grandmother. I wish I could have had time with her. All I have are the Pensieve memories that Dad lets us see."

There is a silence that follows. Thick and heavy. Snape has a hard time taking a breath of air (not that he really needs it, but it is comforting to return to old habits like _breathing_, for Merlin's sake). Lily looks almost motherly (Molly Weasley-like perhaps?) as she says, "I'm only eleven, but I think I understand these things a bit. I think my grandmother would be very happy to know that even after death you're still helping my family. Al is a bit of a loner sometimes, but at least he talks to people up here."

"Perhaps he just needs to talk to his own House more often," Snape suggests.

"Oh, Al has friends," Lily says. "He's just quiet. He did want me to tell you lot where he was though. He didn't really want a school-wide portrait search for him."

"We may have simply thought he did not feel up to breaking the rules this week," Snape states.

"Maybe," replies Lily, as she does a little skip around the room. "Anyway, I, unlike Al, need sleep, so I have to go."

"Come again any time," Dilys Derwent calls out. Several portraits declare their agreement, but Snape watches the red hair disappear under the cloak in silence. That is, until something occurs to him about what she had been wearing in the darkness.

"You're in Slytherin?" he asks the invisible girl, as she opens the door.

Lily Potter reappears. Indeed, she is wearing a green and silver snake pin on her black robes with matching earrings, as well as a pair of knee-high emerald green socks poking out of the top of her purple trainers. The strange adornments, especially the earrings, bring up vague memories of a student during his last few years. It takes him a moment to realize the student is Luna Lovegood when a bit of blonde hair comes to mind.

"Of course," Lily says with a grin. "Half my family and the school were really surprised, but then Al just grinned at me across the Great Hall the night of the sorting and everything felt all right again. It's not like Slytherins are all a bunch of Death Eaters these days. Scorpius doesn't even care a bit about blood. And anyway, I spend half of my time in the Gryffindor common room."

"Inter-house unity," says Dumbledore fondly.

"Of course," Lily replies again, and then, once more, she disappears.

Snape had felt weary and old and utterly _dead_ upon first seeing the girl, but now there is a little life springing into him suddenly, and, he is not quite sure why, but it is almost comforting to see her. He wonders if it is because this descendent of Lily Evans Potter does not show any signs of being related to the first James Potter and then decides against it (and perhaps for the first time he can see the character of a Potter without marring the image with too many prejudices).

"Perhaps," he mutters so that none of the other portraits can hear him. Most of them have returned to sleep, and the heavy droning of snoring and deep breathing fills the room. Besides, he reasons, even dead, he has to keep with some house loyalty.

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**A/N: ****Al will be back for the next chapter. (He has to get over his bout of scrofungulus, while also getting over his annoyance of being compared to his dad all the time for his third year at Hogwarts.) Oh yeah, and feel free to let me know what you thought of Lily's character in this. She turned out to be extremely unlike Al at that age. Instead, I think she takes after the wonderfully strong women in her family. (And besides, there had to be a Slytherin Potter eventually. After all, it seemed like Harry and Al just barely slipped by the chance of becoming Slytherins.)**

**A/N 2: Please review! Thanks again.**


	6. Humanity

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.**

**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed. I'm really glad people like Lily. **

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**Chapter Six: Humanity**

Four days after Lily Potter makes a visit to the portraits, McGonagall steps into the office from the fireplace. James Potter is not far behind. He hops out, rubbing soot off of his face with one of the sleeves of his black robe. There is a crackle of green flames and then another boy stumbles out. James catches him and wraps the boy's arm around his shoulder to support him until he can set the boy down in one of the chairs in front of McGonagall's desk.

Al Potter is deathly pale and his green-eyed gaze is a little unfocused, as he stares at his surroundings. Snape recognizes the trace ring of blue around his eyes, which means the boy is taking the Constitution Elixir to boost his health. The scrofungulus has caused bloody blisters on his skin. The ones that have popped are wrapped with salve and bandages, while the ones that hadn't have faded to little scar-like reddish spots on his skin. The hair he had charmed blond two weeks before in some sort of act of rebellion is now black at the roots and a strange, faded yellow everywhere else.

The portraits chatter anxiously, until finally one of them addresses McGonagall. "Is the boy quite ready to be back from St. Mungo's, Minerva?" It is Dilys Derwent. She had informed the rest of the portraits of the boy's impending return when she had returned from her St. Mungo's portrait.

"The blisters are gone and he won't be returning to class for several days," replies McGonagall, as she scribbles something on a piece of paper on her desk. "And he insisted on returning."

"I'm not contagious," mutters Al. He eyes his right arm, which is the most bandaged part of him, with a grimace.

"I would have had you go straight to the fire in your common room and up to bed, Mr. Potter, but I want to be sure you are quite clear on what you are not to do for the next few days."

"The healers told him – " begins James, as he stands behind his little brother's chair with his arms folded. He is the image of brotherly concern, something that only-child Snape does not quite understand. However, he can combine the boys with the image of Lily standing over her baby, trying to protect Harry from Voldemort. It helps that Al's eyes are almost glassy green that day. It makes them shine more in the firelight.

"And I know you boys like to run around regularly," states McGonagall firmly. "Let me make myself clear. You will not leave your bed, save for meals and medicine, or you will find yourself strapped to a bed in the hospital wing like Madam Pomfrey wants you to be. Also, you are not to leave the castle. We do not need to find you sprawled out on the lawn by the lake again talking to the Giant Squid like it's your mother."

"Yes, professor," Al whispers. His eyes are sharper now, perhaps because of the mention of the hallucinations he fought. He glances back and meets James' gaze. The older boy smiles reassuringly.

"The healers gave you some Blood-Replenishing Potion, but you will need to see Madam Pomfrey for more every six hours," McGonagall continues.

"I'll make sure he does," says James. Despite the hair, he looks nothing like his namesake to Snape. Instead, James looks like a Weasley with his face as freckly as the clan, but without the trademark hair.

"Excellent," says McGonagall. "Now, do you want to take the Floo Network to your common room, Mr. Potter?"

Al grips the chair tightly and says, "I think I might be sick if we do, professor. Walking sounds good."

"I'll take him," James insists.

"Very well," McGonagall says. "I need to write a letter, so I trust that you two can reach the common room by yourselves."

"Yes, professor," both boys reply.

Carefully, Al stands up and allows his brother to wrap his arm around the taller boy's shoulder for support. It bothers his blisters a little, but the salve is soothing as well as partially numbing, so the pain subsides.

"When will the other student return, Minerva?" asks Armando Dippet after the boys have left.

"Miss Creevey?" McGonagall says, as she dips her quill in emerald green ink. "She was farther along in the sickness than Mr. Potter. Her hallucinations were so minor that even she didn't really notice anything off with herself. However, the healers insist on her staying at St. Mungo's for another week."

"But the boy wanted to look like a martyr and come home to Hogwarts, eh?" Phineas Nigellus hisses, sneering.

"I'm sure he would rather be away from the entire Weasley and Potter clans mollycoddling him incessantly at his bedside, Phineas," Snape says dryly.

There is a silence among the portraits. Even McGonagall's quill stops moving across the parchment, as she turns around to look at Snape with both eyebrows raised.

"You just defended a Potter being accused of grabbing at fame," McGonagall says slowly.

Snape does not say anything right away. His face is fairly blank, but there is some surprise in the curve of his mouth. "If you choose to look at it that way," he finally states.

"How would you choose to look at it, Severus?" Dumbledore queries, as he opens up his bag of never-ending sherbet lemons and pops one into his mouth.

"Yes, do tell," mutters McGonagall with a small smirk.

"I would say that that kind of fame is not worth being with those such as Molly Weasley and her relentless coddling, indulging, _spoiling_ ways," Snape replies.

"Of course," McGonagall grumbles.

There is a long silence, in which several portraits give Snape disbelieving stares. Finally, Dumbledore breaks it and asks, "Sherbet lemon, Severus?" Snape shakes his head and turns away from all of the wide, curious eyes before he is tempted to poison his fellow portraits.

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**A/N: ****Al should be better soon enough. Perhaps next chapter we'll find out more about Al's temporarily blond hair. :) Oh, and please review. Thanks again!**


	7. Anonymity

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.**

**A/N: Thank you to the reviewers! (I believe scrofungulus was mentioned briefly in Order of the Phoenix when they go to St. Mungo's, by the way. I certainly didn't make it up.) This chapter takes places approximately two weeks _before_ the last chapter.**

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**Chapter Seven: A****nonymity**

It is the middle of November, and Snape is jolted awake when Albus Potter finally makes enough noise to thrust him from a dream (a nightmare of snakes and green eyes wide and hidden behind black-rimmed glasses and blood _everywhere_). The third-year Gryffindor sits in the middle of the floor of the office, accidentally clinking glass vials and mashing ingredients together in a wooden basin.

It takes Snape's tired eyes several moments to move away from the concoction Al is creating to realize that the boy's hair is bright blond. With a lit candle beside him on a small candlestick, Al's hair flickers from golden to a pale yellow in the light. Only then does Snape realize what the boy is crushing in the dimness.

"A Sticking Potion, Potter?" Snape comments.

Al does not even look up, nor does he seem surprised by the words as he replies, "This spell won't last long. I want this hair for at least a couple of weeks."

"What statement are you trying to instill, boy?" says Snape, sneering. "Are you attempting to disown your family for the Malfoys?" It feels good to let sarcasm slip from his mouth as his mind ignores the images from his sleep, but as always, even as obviously upset as the boy is, Al is not overly bothered by the words.

"I just felt like a change," Al says dully. With a grimace, he scoops up a bit of the green, squishy mess in the bowl and scrubs his hair with it like shampoo or conditioner. His hair slowly absorbs the goop, until it is just a little brighter and more obnoxiously fair.

"You still look like a Potter, Potter," Snape says. "A Potter crossed with a Malfoy on a bad hair day, but still a Potter."

"Ha!" Al grunts. "Like you should talk," he adds, muttering.

"Believe me, Potter, I am glad I do not have your hair problems," says Snape.

Al looks up from his cleaning and tries to glare, but he ends up grinning a little. "This color isn't that bad," he insists.

"It's fine, dear," says the fierce witch in purple.

"It should shock people at least," Dippet points out, while trying to hide a grimace.

"Sounds good to me," Al says. He stuffs his materials back in his bag and runs a hand through his yellow hair. A little yellow comes off on his hand, but he does not notice. Before any of the portraits can yell out a warning, Al plops the hand back down on the carpet. A yellow smear in the shape of a thumb and index finger is visible when he moves his hand in alarm.

"Merlin's beard," he gasps, scrambling to grab his wand. "_Tergeo_!" he yelps, as he points his wand at the yellow print. The yellow glints for a second and then appears just as it had beforehand.

"A Sticking Potion I could only expect from the likes of a Potter or a Longbottom," Snape remarks. "Useful only in the wrong situations."

"Oi," Al says, frowning thoughtfully at the mess, "Dittany Longbottom is fairly good at Potions."

"Another spell may do the trick, Albus," Dumbledore says patiently.

"Hopefully," mutters Al, and then says, "_Scourgify_!" This time, the yellow mark vanishes, as well as all of the dirt on the carpet. It is suddenly brighter and more colorful.

"Effective," a bespectacled, ginger-haired former headmistress comments.

"Do you think Professor McGonagall will notice?" Al asks.

"House elves could have easily done it," Dilys Derwent states.

"Good point," the boy mumbles. He stands up and wanders over to a table. He gazes at his reflection in the glass surface with a critical eye and then smiles.

"Why are you trying not to look like your father, Albus?" Dumbledore asks softly.

Snape's head jerks as he considers the other former headmaster's question. He watches closely as Al's face pinches and contorts with a jumble of emotions. He is suddenly painfully, _glaringly_ thirteen years old, while the portraits had been treating him with a sort of young adult air for sometime.

"Dad's been in the paper lately, even more so than when he became head of the Auror Department," Al admits. He stares at the floor beneath his red trainers mournfully. "Rita Skeeter's trying to fight my aunt Hermione's lawsuit against her for invasion of privacy or some such thing when Skeeter wrote that stupid biography on my dad."

"_Behind the Scar_ or something, wasn't it?" asks an elderly witch with wispy white hair and feathered earrings.

"_Behind the Scar: the Boy-Who-Lived or the Boy-Who-Lied?_ is the full title," Al states. "Skeeter had the misfortune of saying in the book that my aunt and dad had a torrid love affair in their fourth year even after my aunt threatened her back then. It doesn't help Skeeter much that Aunt Hermione's in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Anyway," he continues with a grimace, "people have been gawking and looking at me for signs of being my aunt and dad's love child or something this year. It's not bad enough I'm the Boy-Who-Lived's son, but now they have to be more obvious about the gawping." He finishes with a yell and then quickly bites his lip apologetically. "I mean," he says more quietly, "I'm not about to disown my dad or anything to get some privacy. I can take it. He had it worse after all."

"But instead you've made yourself look like a canary," Dilys Derwent points out.

"I suppose so," Al says sadly.

"And you really think you can guard against all words with a change of hair color?" Snape asks suddenly.

"Maybe it'll give me a different sort of attention for a while and then blow over."

He looks hopeful, and Snape sighs and mutters, "You will learn how life is."

Al stares up at him in puzzlement, as if Snape had said something stranger than normal. "Life isn't all bad," he says softly. "I thought you would know that despite everything." He pauses and smiles a little. "I'll tell you a secret."

"Joy of joys," Snape grumbles, gathering up a bit of sarcasm as he prepares for what the boy is about to impart to him. It is self-preservation that he has kept with him for most of his life and afterwards.

"Since I met you," Al says with all of the naivety of being young and hopeful, "I've sort of hoped that maybe I could bring a little bit of happiness here to this office, since it doesn't seem that you had much of that when at Hogwarts ever. Maybe… I didn't succeed."

Every portrait is awake now. Snape can feel their eyes even as he stares down at the boy who shares his name. He finds, for the first time, he really has nothing he can say.

Then, Al smiles and nods (_with those green eyes so impossibly bright and painful_). "I thought so," he mutters, and then, laughing, adds more normally, "Well, I hope this hair doesn't last more than a few weeks. It really was a terrible idea."

Several portraits seem relieved that he has realized that (as they don't have to pretend they like it anymore), but Snape has stopped listening to anything. Al leaves, but turns around one last time to beam at him knowingly.

The next time Al shows up in the office, he is pale and sick but still holds the same sort of knowledge that is far beyond his years as if it were a banner. (Snape tries to hate him again – _for being a stupid, little Gryffindor grandson of James Potter who thinks he knows everything_ – but just can't.)

* * *

**A/N: And so we find out why Snape didn't think Al wanted any attention in the last chapter. :) Anyway, next chapter we have all eight main students (Al, James, Lily, Hugo, Rose, Scorpius, Dittany, and Abigail) in the office at night during Al's sixth year… It should be interesting. (And yes, once again, we skip a few years to see them as older teenagers.) Please review!**


	8. Confidentiality

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.**

**A/N: This chapter takes place on New Year's Day of Al's sixth year. Interesting things ensue and _eight _students go to the headmistress' office for help this time. Please review. :)**

**EDIT: Whoa. Ack. Fixed the pub confusion. Oh boy. That's what happens when I make a few rash decisions on placement at the last minute while listening to Pottercast. Thanks, whitehound.**

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**Chapter Eight: Confidentiality**

"Are you sure about this, James?"

The dawning of a new year brings several events. One of which is there are many portraits drunk on Ogden's Old Firewhisky and other drinks, while quite another is seven young voices arguing on the stairs up to the office.

"Al trusts him!"

"You're so naïve, Hugh."

"No one asked you, Malfoy!"

"At this point, we might as well just go to Madam Pomfrey," points out the sensible voice of a girl.

"We can do that if we don't get help here, Rose," insists James.

"Here's a plan," hisses another girl. Snape immediately recognizes her as the second Lily Potter. "Why don't you lot shut your mouths so we don't get caught? That is, unless you think we can fit eight people under an invisibility cloak or cast a disillusionment spell in under a second."

There is silence on the stairs after that, except for quiet grumbles between Scorpius and Hugo. When the door at the top of the stairs opens, eight students emerge, including Hugo and Rose Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy, Dittany Longbottom, Abigail Abbott, and the three Potters. However, there is something distinctly different about sixth-year Albus Severus.

Dippet is the first portrait to speak, although his eyes are a little unfocused from drink. "Children! Welcome to the office!" he says. This causes several giggles and chuckles from other portraits, while Snape rolls his eyes and Dumbledore sits sipping sherry with a giant, pointed hat with purple tassels running around the brim on his head. Despite the hat and the drink, Snape is positive that Dumbledore is almost completely sober. He is just being… Dumbledore.

"Let me guess," Snape says, "an Aging Potion gone horribly awry?"

The baby in Dittany's arms lets out a gurgle. He is wrapped in black robes with a distinctive Gryffindor prefect's badge on the front and has a mop of wispy dark hair on his head. Still, Snape gazes at the baby Al Potter pointedly.

"We were trying to get into the Three Broomsticks to help Hagrid out, you see, sir," insists Dittany. She is distinctly related to Neville Longbottom with mousy brown hair and wide eyes, but she also does not seem overly frightened by the sneer Snape gives her. Instead, the whole situation seems to be empowering her, as she fights to hold on to the rambunctious baby attempting to pull her hair. "Hagrid was really upset over Fang's death this afternoon and we were afraid he'd – "

"Act as foolishly as he always does in pubs," Snape finishes.

"And he was having some sort of memorial dinner there since he couldn't bear to cook in his hut," explains Rose.

"Thank Merlin for that," Hugo mutters. "He tried to feed me a stoat sandwich last I was there! I am not going to eat a weasel!"

"Oh, the puns," Scorpius whispers with a smirk.

"Shut it, Malfoy," James and Hugo retort.

"I'm sure you darlings have better things to do on the night of the New Year!" chirps the witch in the powdered wig. She downs a glass of elderflower wine and puts a delicate hand to her mouth as she giggles.

"Well, Hagrid is already back singing at the top of his lungs in his hut," grumbles Hugo.

"But we can't figure out how to fix Al without explaining what we were doing," Rose adds.

Abigail, a blonde Hufflepuff girl with trembling knees, whispers, "Please help us?"

"Yeah, he's an awfully annoying baby. Don't know how his mum didn't just drop him on purpose," Dittany grunts, as baby Al chews on his thumb.

The other students stare at her wide-eyed for a moment before she adds, "Merlin's knickerbockers! I wasn't serious."

"Well, good, because I was definitely going to tell your boyfriend that you hate his baby self when we got him fixed up," Hugo says.

"What is that supposed to – " begins Dittany in annoyance before Lily interrupts.

"Will everyone just close their overly large mouths so I can talk to Professor Snape?" she screams.

Impressively, all of the teenagers and the baby stop babbling, as fourth-year Lily steps up closer to Snape's portrait. She smoothes down her robes and straightens her green tie (decorative silver snakes really move across the tie and stick out their little thread tongues), before saying politely, "What potion can we use for Al, professor?"

"Perhaps I believe your _little_ brother deserves some inquiries from Madam Pomfrey," Snape suggests.

"Perhaps," Lily agrees coolly, "but still, you must understand that we were not gallivanting off to get smashed. We just wanted to help Hagrid."

"And you researched possible solutions?" Snape asks.

"Well, short of getting into the restricted section at one in the morning, yes," says Rose.

"We would've asked Slughorn since he practically worships Lily and wouldn't say anything if she asked, but he was nowhere to be found today," Scorpius supplies. Snape notes that he is practically the clone of his father at this age. He won't admit it, but he remembers sixteen year old Draco Malfoy being told to murder Dumbledore and feels a little sickened suddenly.

Lily snorts and grumbles, "Ack, the Slug Club."

"I swear I would've made the potion if Al had waited a minute," James says. "I never knew he was that seriously terrible at Potions. I always thought he was exaggerating."

"Slughorn is always bemoaning the 'lost art of Potions in Al's blood' or some such nonsense," Lily points out.

"Can we focus here?" Rose asks. "Why don't we tell the whole story to sound a bit more convincing and not like a bunch of fools?"

"Fine," Hugo sighs. "First, Hagrid came to lunch all blubbery and we wanted to know what was wrong _this_ time."

"Poor Fang," Abigail whispers.

"Yeah, and Fang had died, so Hagrid was holding a dinner at the Three Broomsticks," continues Scorpius with a roll of his eyes. "But of course he insisted on us not coming, as it would be after dark and off in Hogsmeade."

"And then Al cooked up the failed potion so we could be there as a bunch of elderly people so no one could recognize us," Lily sighs.

"And then he turned into a baby, so we went to find Professor Slughorn," adds Abigail. "Oh, and Professor Rosewater caught us hanging about Professor Slughorn's rooms."

"Why is she still teaching here? She obviously hates students!" Hugo hisses.

The baby Al laughs a little. There is an almost intelligent glint in his wide, green eyes, and when he grins at Snape a little cheekily, the Potions Master knows Al's mind is still fully present despite his appearance.

"You can put the baby down, Miss Longbottom," Snape states. "Mr. Potter is still very much aware of his actions."

Dittany's eyebrows raise in surprise, but she glares at Al and sets him down on the ground. He pouts and sticks out his tongue. Snape smirks and says, "I think Mr. Potter can figure out how to handle this on his own."

"What?" several indignant students yelp.

"Or the potion could just run its course," Snape continues. "I suspect he will be fine in five minutes or so. His hair is already starting to grow."

"So it is!" Lily yells, as Al tugs on his little black curls with one chubby fist.

"Why didn't any of us think of that?" gasps Rose.

"We have been running around the castle casting disillusionment charms and half wearing the invisibility cloak and getting points taken from us by Rosewater for the last four hours!" moans Hugo.

"What else would you have been doing, Hugh?" sighs Dittany. "Sleeping? Eating?"

"Eat-ing," says the baby slowly. "Defi-ly." Al's voice is high and slow, as he struggles for the words. He shakes his head and grimaces.

There is a little puff of purple smoke around him and then coughing erupts inside the cloudy circle. When the air is clear again, teenage Al is sitting, tangled in his robes. "I really could use some really hot tea now," he remarks. "I don't suppose one of you could do me a brew?"

"Why, you blighter," grumbles Hugo. "You could have got us in serious trouble with that stupid potion."

"Fine, fine," sighs Lily. "I'll go down to the kitchens and bring a cup up to your common room. C'mon, Abigail." Abigail follows the younger girl meekly down the stairs, cautiously glancing back at Al as if he were going to suddenly become an infant once more.

"Abby's disillusionment charm is surprisingly strong," Al remarks after the two girls are down the stairs. "Filch completely missed us on the way here."

"We should've known you were still all together," James mutters. "It's not like normal Aging Potions change a person's mental age."

"Not totally so," Al says. "My mouth didn't quite want to move right, and my brain was a little foggy."

"More so than usual?" grunts Dittany, as she crosses her arms.

"You're amazing, Ditty," replies Al with a grin. Dittany glares at him, but then just as quickly begins to smile a little.

"You probably put too much moonstone in," James sighs.

Snape is not even mildly surprised by this, as he has gotten used to this James Potter being good at his subject over the years. Not that it does not bother him, of course. However, James mostly shows polite neutrality whenever talking to Snape these days, so there are few opportunities for Snape to snap at him. It's almost as unnerving as Albus Severus' relative lack of response to his sarcasm.

"Sure," Al says flippantly. He does not shift his gaze from Dittany's.

"As wonderful as it is that Mr. Potter has returned to his normal self," says Snape sarcastically, "I think this visit has extended far enough."

Al shakes his head a little, as if to clear his thoughts, and finally looks away from Dittany. "Sorry to be a pest, but it's not like I suggested that they all tromp up here," he insists.

"It's fine, dear," says the purple-robed witch, as Phineas Nigellus barks, "You should all be reported one of these days. Trespassing in the office of the headmasters and headmistresses! Bah."

Al chuckles. "Well, why haven't you?" Hugo lets out a big, exasperated sigh at his cousin, while James just rolls his eyes.

Scorpius, whose hand is securely wrapped in Rose's now, mutters, "Barking mad, the lot of you. No tact."

"Preaching to the Gryffindors, Score," Rose whispers back.

"No, really, I've been wondering this for a while," Al says. "Why don't you tell Professor McGonagall?" His question is open to all of the portraits, as he looks around at them.

Phineas Nigellus grunts and hisses, "You made it so, boy."

Al grins devilishly and says, "I didn't do anything to your voices."

"But the moment Dumbledore lied for you that first night when Minerva McGonagall asked whether anyone had entered the office while she was gone, you were allowed by this office to enter as you like," Phineas Nigellus explains angrily.

"You knew it too," James says disbelievingly to his little brother.

"Not right away," Al admits. "But, during my second year, I did some research on the old headmasters and headmistresses and this office to learn more about the portraits. The office has fascinating charms on it. I wasn't sure if it would allow other people to go up here for me though, so I tested it out by sending Lily up when I got sick with scrofungulus a year later."

"That's risky, mate," says Hugo.

"Oh c'mon, she was a first-year and a sneaky little Slytherin so she could pull the innocence ploy with a bit of acting if she'd been caught," Al replies.

"You are the epitome of your name," sighs James with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, he's a right manipulative, sneaky, little prat," Hugo mutters.

"I should take offense to that, I suppose," Dumbledore states, but he is smiling a tad ruefully.

Snape coughs to hide the smirk that had played across his lips and only half succeeds. "I'm sure Mr. Potter has done his own share of mischief," he says.

Al nods and says, "Well, let's go, folks. We don't want to outstay our welcome or anything." He opens the door with a flourish and waits for everyone to leave before adding, "Happy New Year, headmasters, headmistresses." Then, he too runs down the stairs. Suddenly, there is a yelp as he smashes into Dittany at the bottom. The portraits can hear her yelling at him as they stand right in front of the gargoyle.

(Snape remembers Al saying confidently, "You're amazing, Ditty," and is almost certain about what is going to happen between those two as long as one of them does not become a servant of any dark lord or call the other some offensive nickname – or both, for that matter.)

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for being out of bed once again, Mr. Potter, Miss Longbottom! I think it's time for the headmistress to hear about this," Professor Rosewater's voice rings out.

"Oh, oh no, professor," says James Potter suddenly. Snape is sure that the boy had been waiting under the invisibility cloak with at least one other student and then decided to intervene by looking like he had just stepped around the corner. "They were just helping me out with some Head Boy duties. They are prefects after all."

"And yelling at the top of their lungs has something to do with that?" Rosewater replies coolly.

"Sorry, professor," Dittany says. "We were just getting into a little friendly fight, you know. We're very sorry for disturbing the quiet of the school."

"Yes, very," Al insists.

"Well, then I suggest you hurry off to bed now," Rosewater says, "before I consider discussing this with the headmistress. After all, this does seem like an overstepping, James."

"I do apologize, professor," answers James. "I just wanted to make sure there were no students sneaking off to get drunk and I wasn't able to talk to Maggie because the thought completely slipped my mind and she is in Hufflepuff after all, so it's a bit hard to talk to her after dinner." Snape remembers vaguely that he has seen the girl, one Margaret Finnigan, up in the office when discussing her Head Girl duties with McGonagall.

"Of course, so you decided to use two prefects instead of the Head Girl then," Rosewater says. There is a note of suspicion in her voice, but still, soon there is the sound of goodbyes and quiet walking away.

There is silence and then the sound of Dumbledore chuckling. "Oh, Severus," he says, "what have the names of the dead done to these children?"

"I think we can blame parenting more than any influence of ours," replies Snape. Dumbledore just smiles. "Besides, the dead should not haunt the living."

Dumbledore abruptly sighs and says, "If only that could always be so, my friend."

Unbidden, Snape thinks about Al saying, "You're amazing, Ditty," and stiffens. That life is no longer near his reach, but his namesake is just beginning to toss himself into the fray.


	9. Musicality

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.**

**A/N: In which the author's 'band nerd tendencies' come out (meaning I have been in a school band for way too long). :) Oh yeah, and Al learns to play an instrument to 'impress a girl' during his fourth and fifth years. Also, in which I come up with probably the least creative chapter title ending in '–ity' yet, but oh well.**

**A/N 2: To KyuubiPandoraChan, I'm not totally sure I understand your question, but if what you mean by "why Snape is so over Al and Ditty?" that you're not sure why Snape is paying a lot of attention to those two, then I can say that it's because he notices that they're in the beginning of a more romantic relationship, which reminds him of what could have happened with him and Lily Evans but didn't. This is why it says in the last chapter that he "is almost certain about what is going to happen between those two as long as one of them does not become a servant of any dark lord" (i.e. like how Snape became a Death Eater) "or call the other some offensive nickname – or both, for that matter" (i.e. like how Snape called Lily and Mudblood and so she never forgave him unfortunately). If I didn't understand your question, then please explain it to me. Thanks to everyone for reviewing. :) **

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**Chapter Nine: Musicality**

Minerva McGonagall can play the piano and has been doing so for the last sixty-some odd years. Al Potter is determined to learn, albeit without the knowledge of anyone living at first. This is why every Wednesday during his fourth year, he slips into the office and mutters, "_Finite_,"around the invisible piano back behind McGonagall's desk. (He knows it is there because he has been in that office, hidden under the invisibility cloak, in the night when she returns and practices when something is bothering her.)

Every time he arrives in the office, Al performs a ritual: reveal the piano, cast a silencing charm on the door, and practice with the sheet music that McGonagall leaves on the top of the piano.

The first time, Snape is almost ready to sleep in another portrait for the rest of the year. After banging on the notes for a while, Al cautiously pokes the keys and just sits there listening to the sound reverberate. It is by the third Wednesday that he has tentatively figured out how to play "Mary Had a Little Lamb" on any three notes (which, he admits, really isn't terribly hard). He has no idea which three he is supposed to use until he picks up a beginning's music book in the bookstore down in Hogsmeade. The book shows him how to use a spell to temporarily write the names of the notes on top of the keys until he memorizes them.

"Albus, can you read music already?" Dumbledore asks after, on the fifth Wednesday, Al rapidly runs a hand down the keys.

"A bit," Al mutters. "Lily took piano lessons when she was about six and I watched. I figure it's a handy skill to have in wizarding society, considering there aren't much in the way of music programs in this school. 'Might impress someone."

"A girl?" asks the witch in the powdered wig.

"I suppose," Al replies softly, although he is barely paying attention. "I'm thinking of it as a future investment when I can actually play something with more than three notes." He scribbles the rhythm pattern under each note with a flashy red and gold quill he had picked up in Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop after going to the bookstore. (Lily complains that it is ridiculously Gryffindor, even for a Gryffindor.) "One and Two, Three, Four," he mutters. "One – um, eeeee, and, ah – Three and Four."

Al spends three months learning muggle children's songs and then nervously moves on to a few classical pieces. It takes him until May before he can play the first movement of Beethoven's "'Moonlight' Sonata" with any sort of confidence, and even then he plays it at a sort of half speed with almost every other note on the page circled with a little musical 'sharp' sign above the top. He has gone from his beginner's book to a different book for the sonata, but he frequently goes back and plays little rapid versions of children's songs. (In February, he switchesfrom only Wednesdays to Wednesdays and Saturdays.)

It is during most of these nights that Snape finds himself lulled to sleep by the quiet Beethoven and awakens at dawn to find Al either long gone or slumped over the keyboard fast asleep with nothing to hide him if McGonagall were to come in.

It is the last Wednesday of term when Snape snaps back to consciousness with a slight twitching of his eyebrows at the images in his dream. A sound had awakened him, but he does not realize what it was until he notices that Al's head is pressed against the keyboard and his hand is falling off of the piano. The gentle rocking back and forth of the hand is making a light noise as it passes over the keys.

"Potter," he calls out. All of the other portraits snore in their frames, but Al's head rushes up so fast he bangs it on the bookshelf behind him.

"Ummft," he grunts. Dark rings around his eyes, he winces against the light as he glances out the window at the pink and orange sky. He rubs some life into his fingers and says, "Well, I guess this is the last time for a while." He lightly plays the first movement as he always has, but there is something hidden in those slow, gentle notes.

Many of the other portraits wake up as Al plays the sonata without any use of a spell to tell him what notes he is passing his hands over. In fact, he barely glances at the sheet music in front of him, and basically does not look from a spot on the wall until he finishes.

Dumbledore is the first portrait to clap and smile encouragingly at Al, and most of the others follow suit. "Do you have a way to practice over the summer, Albus?" he asks.

"Teddy and Victoire have a grand piano in their drawing room that Victorie plays," Al explains, as he closes the piano and replaces the spells on top of it. "She said I could use it whenever I visit them in London." He pauses and adds proudly, "And she says she'll give me some lessons without telling anyone."

"We shall miss you, Allie," says the bewigged witch.

Al makes a face and replies, "I'll be back next year without fear."

"Wonderful. I am sure we would have just died of the monotony here without you, Potter," Snape remarks sarcastically.

"I'm sure, sir," Al says with a small smirk. Looking back on it, Snape remembers that the Al that graduated this year was still fairly soft-spoken and had the qualities of a gently simmering potion. It was not until he returned from the summer that he would start to do such things as appear in the office in the daytime and act like a volatile mixture of Erumpent Fluid and crushed snake fangs in an Exploding Fluid potion.

The summer goes by uneventfully, especially for the portraits. Phineas Nigellus occasionally complains loudly about not getting any peace in his portrait in Grimmauld Place, as it is the home of the Potters. His portrait now hangs in the drawing room after Lily was born and that particular bedroom became hers. Phineas had been pleased about that, at least, because then he didn't have to worry about a baby screaming in her crib at night. (Lily had been unable to sleep in her own crib for a full night for the first nine months of her life without crying, which resulted in James and a tiny two-year-old Al refusing to sleep on the same floor as her. Instead, they took refuge by sleeping on the kitchen floor with a few clean blankets from Kreacher's bed. In fact, one night, Mrs. Black's portrait was awoken by the noise. This caused Al to run around the kitchen crying in fright, while James just covered his ears with his hands, until Kreacher brought him a glass of milk and a plate of cookies. After that, Ginny and Harry kept the crib in their room and made sure James and Al slept soundly in their beds with a few silencing charms on their bedroom doors to keep out the sounds of Lily's fussing.)

The first night of school, Al is in McGonagall's office to practice his piano playing. Over the summer, Victoire had clearly taught him quite a few songs. Some of them are French children's songs that Fleur had sung to her as a baby, including "Au clair de la lune," which she sang along while Al learned to play it (And so afterwards, Al can still hear her beautiful voice singing, "Au clair de la lune, mon ami Pierrot, prête-moi ta plume pour écrire un mot," while he plays.) Mostly, however, Al now knows how to play three Celestina Warbeck songs.

"I think I understand now," Dumbledore says with a chuckle. "The girl that Madame Elizabeth," – here he nods towards the lady in the powdered wig – "suggested that you were learning to play the piano for is actually your grandmother."

Al stops in the middle of playing "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love" to say, "Well, yes. It's going to be Grandma Molly's Christmas present this year since it's Victoire and Teddy's turn to host it and they have a piano readily available. And anyway," he pauses for a moment, "who else would I be playing for?"

"A love interest perhaps," insists the bewigged witch.

Al laughs a little and says, "Truth be told, _that_ particular person would just be pleased that I have something I'm actually willing to put my whole effort into. She's always insisting I do things by halves."

"Give me a hint, dear?" asks the witch.

"Not likely," Al replies, as he stands up and puts the piano back the way it was before he arrived. "She's doesn't even know she is a 'love interest.'"

He yawns and adds, "Well, be prepared for me to spend my Wednesday nights up here learning how to play practically the entire 'You Stole My Cauldron but You Can't Have my Heart' album." Several of the male portraits groan, and after a few weeks, Snape is fairly certain "You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me" will be stuck in his head for the rest of eternity (And for Merlin's sake, Molly Weasley had better be extremely appreciative, he reasons, or their suffering through these terrible songs will be for naught and he _will_ find a way to curse the Potters and Weasleys despite being a portrait.)

To Snape's relief, after the winter holidays, Al starts learning classical pieces on Wednesday nights again. Of course, this means he returns to talking to them about whatever random topics come to his young mind on Saturdays, but it is worth it.

* * *

**A/N: This is my eighth year playing the flute in my school band, however, I can't play the piano, so if anything seems particularly off, let me know. Yes, it may seem sudden that Al would learn some of the songs he did, but I think he could do it, albeit by playing very slowly. After all, he doesn't have the normal Potter/Weasley traits (i.e. he isn't good at Quidditch, he isn't as troublesome as James until about his fifth year, et cetera)… Bit of trivia: the very first song I learned was, like Al, "Mary Had a Little Lamb." (Also, if I mutilated any French words, let me know that too.)**

**A/N 2: And, because I can't seem to stay away from Al's third year (loads of stuff happens that year), we learn more about that time James was so annoying that he got poisoned, which really was supposed to be chapter nine, but I haven't found a way to finish it satisfactorily yet. :)**


	10. Festivity

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.**

**A/N: As always, thanks for the reviews. :) This chapter takes place during Al's third and fifth years.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Festivity**

Harry Potter was sitting in the office when Snape returned from a rather annoying errand. He rarely left the headmistress' office, so it was interesting to see the changes in the castle. Still, the reason for the leaving had more than destroyed all good points.

To be rudely awakened by a grouchy, old, self-important portrait was bothersome enough. It was much worse that Slughorn had requested his presence in his office, and then the old portrait practically ordered Snape to follow him. The old man was apparently a famous great-grandfather of Slughorn's, which did nothing to lesson Snape's temper when Slughorn pointed this out as way of introduction, as Snape was squashed in the small portrait with the old man.

"Well, down to business," Slughorn had continued hurriedly, as if he had only stopped to make introductions for formality's sake. "I'm afraid I need a second opinion on a student poisoning diagnosis." And then all sorts of other annoyances came about, as Snape realized he was not going to be able to return to sleep for some time. (What else could the poison have consisted of aside from Deadly Nightshade and Water Hemlock anyway? The color was just the right hue for the combination, for Merlin's sake. Slughorn had protested that it could have been chopped instead of crushed, but then the person being poisoned would have noticed it more quickly.)

It only makes matters worse to find a thirty-nine year old Harry Potter sitting in the chair in front of McGonagall's desk without the headmistress behind it. He is only just a little older than Snape himself had been when he had died, and it is… _disconcerting_ (the original James Potter probably would have looked much the same, minus the green eyes, if he had lived that long…).

"The shop is doing all right," Harry is saying to Dumbledore. "Fred, that is, my nephew, just left the main shop in Diagon Alley to be fully in charge of the one in Hogsmeade. Ron goes over there sometimes during the holidays to just help out, but mostly George has enough employees at this point where he doesn't really need it."

"I'm sure George must have plenty of nephews and nieces to choose from to work for him during the summer," Dumbledore supplies.

"Yeah," Harry says. "He hired James over the last summer. Basically, James just wanted to get some business experience and then left after a month to set up his own newspaper.

"I've heard of it," Dumbledore states. "It's called _That Newspaper That Doesn't Lie_, is it not?"

"Yeah, or _Blunt_, as its fans like to shorten it to," the Auror answers.

"I assume there are no Rita Skeeters at this newspaper," says Dumbledore in amusement.

"Of course there isn't," Harry answers. "Mostly students read it and submit their own stories. George helped fund it on the condition that James includes a page of advertisement for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in every issue."

"I will have to read it," Dumbledore says.

Harry grins and replies, "James and Al are working on a collaborated article about themselves, which probably won't be published until they decide they have it exactly right."

Snape has had enough of listening to the idle talk and barks, "Haven't we enough Potters running amok in this office at all hours?"

Harry gaze shifts, as he searches for Snape's face. When he meets Snape's eyes, Harry replies good-humoredly, "I've heard of that. My cousin's son insists it's a bit unhealthy, but it doesn't seem to have made Al any stranger than can be expected."

Snape grunts and settles into his chair in his portrait.

"I remember you here predicting your muggle cousin would have a wizard son," says a wizard with long white sideburns and little other hair (or teeth for that matter). He begins to crackle, "Dang mud – " when several portraits yell, "Quiet, Gunhild!" and "Oh, shut it!" Unfortunately, former Headmaster Gilford Gunhild sleeps for two years at a time and then stays mostly awake for six months. It is currently the awakened months, and Snape suspects that, considering his own state of mind during his tenure as headmaster, he would have tossed the portrait out of the window if Gunhild had dared to sprout such words at the time.

"I've just been to the hospital wing," Harry continues with a weak smile. "My son was poisoned."

"Oh, of course it would be him," Snape says. "Can't keep your son out of the sickbed this year?"

"Well, no, I suppose not with the scrofungulus and all, but it isn't _that_ son this time," explains Harry. "I suppose Slughorn didn't feel like telling you who you were helping when he asked for your advice about the poison."

"I can only assume there is an epic story behind the poisoning then," states Snape.

Harry laughs a little, as he smirks wryly. He folds his arms and leans back. Snape notices there is a new scar on him, aside from the familiar lightning bolt. It is a thin line perhaps three or four centimeters long that runs along the underside of his lower right arm. (He assumes it is probably from some kind of situation where Harry had had to protect his face when he had no other choice. It's a better alternative than being hit in the face with a curse, like Mad-Eye Moody in his younger years.) "I generally think," Harry says, "there are more epic things than the story of a vindictive boy who got pushed too far by my loudmouth eldest and decided to slip some poisonous plants into said loudmouth's water."

"Such a base, unoriginal act," Snape says.

"Of course you never would've poisoned anyone," comments Harry.

"So you think you know something then, Potter?"

"I read your potions book," Harry replies simply.

"Of course." Snape sneers and stares at Harry darkly. "How could I forget your total lack of sense when reading my notes in the margins?"

Harry shrugs. "That was a long time ago. I've more than advised my children against trusting random objects."

"It's always about you and your family, Potter," says Snape. "What of Draco Malfoy, the boy you maimed?

"Malfoy seems no worse for wear, although I didn't feel much like apologizing since he tried to kill me again during the last battle of Hogwarts," Harry answers. "I saved his life twice during it. He now feels an obligation to accept his son and my niece together, although Ron hasn't felt the same." He smirks to himself and then stands up. "I figured I might as well come up here for a chat while James is still sleeping," he says, "but he should be awake any minute now."

"Give my regards to your family, Harry," Dumbledore says, beaming.

Harry nods and says, "I just hope Lily isn't the next one in the hospital."

"Slytherins are not foolish enough to let their drinks be poisoned," Phineas Nigellus insists.

"Mad-Eye Moody was a Gryffindor and he's the only one I've ever seen with a hip flask," Harry states. "Well, that is, if you don't count Barty Crouch, Jr., posing as him, I suppose."

Phineas Nigellus ignores him and goes off about Slytherin pride. Harry rolls his eyes and leaves with a general wave towards the room.

* * *

Two years later, Snape reads the article by Al and James Potter in the editorial section of _Blunt_. It is nestled in the very front of the newspaper before an article by Luna Lovegood-Scamander on the health effects of tickling dragons (which is called "Tickling Dragons May Be Worth the Risk"). 

_**Factual Information (also known as We Probably Won't Save the World. Sorry.)**_

**By James S. R. Potter, editor-in-chief, and Albus S. Potter, journalist**

_(Note: This is a joint effort that we decided to break up into segments that are each written by one of us to start off. This is our one and probably only – we almost killed each other during the making of it – collaboration article. J. Potter)_

**ASP (Albus S. Potter):** Despite being born with controversial names, my brother and I freely admit that we are not particularly as interesting as some have hoped. To be perfectly honest, we probably will not save the world, nor do we have any fascinating scars (although the editor-in-chief of this newspaper has often joked about getting a tattoo in the shape of a lightning bolt).

**not to be confused with the kind of snake**

**JSRP (James S. R. Potter):** Our parents are Harry and Ginevra Potter. This means that we are not in any way related to our aunt Hermione Weasley by blood, despite the fact that she is a very nice person. Al is not my half-brother. He is my full-brother, if you will. End of story.

**ASP:** Precisely. Anyway, no, we are not going to join a band or lead a revolution or any of the other outlandish things people seem to think we have the capacity to do. In fact, contrary to popular belief, we are just trying to finish our schooling and run a newspaper. (Thank you to those who paid for this newspaper. Otherwise, we would have a lot of copies stuffed in James' school trunk and all over his room at home. This would probably lead to a major fit from our grandmother, so we like to avoid those kinds of situations.)

**JSRP:** No, we really don't want to get our dad's autograph for you. I'm sorry. I know that sounds a bit smug or rude, but, as Al said, we are trying to get through school. Our dad is an Auror. He doesn't have time for us to be forwarding him thousands of owls requesting his signature. None of us would ever sleep.

**ASP:** No, we don't really care that our sister is in Slytherin. She is welcome to go her own way. That is, as long as she doesn't try to conquer the wizarding world and start walking around calling herself Lady Ima Murderer or something. Then, we would have to kick her butt.

**JSRP:** I always love when people ask what it's like living with our dad. My perfectly honest answer is, "Well, him being famous can be annoying sometimes, but then he still was the one who picked us up when we fell off our brooms as little kids (except when he picked Al up, Al never got back on because he decided he hated heights right then and there, despite being only like a half of a meter off of the ground)." My perfectly dishonest answer is, "Oh, we just love the attention! Feel free to gawk at us." (Note the sarcasm.)

**ASP:** And then people seem to think that our mom being a big Quidditch star and news correspondent must be interesting, and it is, but mostly if you're James and fascinated with the sport. Otherwise, it's like, "Oi, Mom wrote that article in the paper on Quidditch, but she's still just our mother."

_**Now for some random questions (that have been mailed to Blunt over the years):**_

_Favorite Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' product?_

**ASP:** Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. It's just useful.

**JSRP:** Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. The firework dragons are the best.

_Best Subject?_

**JSRP:** Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts.

**ASP:** Yeah, DADA is in our blood. I'm also good at Transfiguration.

_Girlfriends_

**JSRP:** Is that an offer?

**ASP:** No comment. Sorry. Believe me, it's not that exciting. At least, I don't think so.

_**Last thoughts:**_

**ASP:** You can certainly continue to ask us questions, but it's unlikely that we will answer any more of these.

**JSRP:** And now we return you to your normal, grammatically and stylistically correct essays and articles.

"Load of rubbish, innit?" asks Al when Snape finishes reading.

Snape had barely noticed him come in. Now, he sets the paper down and eyes the fifth-year boy. "I was actually reading the article by your aunt on using Polyjuice Potion with animal hair and its effects."

"That sounds like Aunt Hermione," Al says. He smirks a little and adds, "I've only used the stuff once, and that was a minor disaster that you probably don't want to hear about."

"I would not doubt it," says Snape darkly.

"How was the article received, Albus?" asks Dumbledore with a grin.

"Sales were through the roof for this edition," Al replies, as he runs a hand through his hair. At the moment, it just brushes the nape of his neck in big, dark waves. "My mates were incredibly amused by it because James and I hadn't let anyone read it, including Lil. Most other people were either amused by the digs at the _Prophet_ and such or disappointed in the utter lack of information we actually gave."

He chuckles a little and takes out a copy of the newspaper from his book bag. "This is the special edition I gave Ditty." He opens the newspaper up to the article and, Snape realizes, there is an extra page after the end of it. Written in huge font, the page says:

**WILL YOU GO TO THE YULE BALL WITH ME, DITTANY LONGBOTTOM?**

_- Al_

Snape rolls his eyes, but several of the female portraits make appreciative noises. "How did Miss Longbottom react?" asks Dilys Derwent.

"Well," explains Al, as he shuts the paper and puts it away. "First, she freaked and thought it was in every copy, so she basically ripped one out of Abby's hands to see if hers said the same thing. It didn't, so she went to everyone else's copy too. Only then did she basically come up to the Gryffindor Tower, where I'd been hiding during lunch, and punch me before saying that she would, indeed, go to the dance with me."

"That's darling," cooed the witch with the wig.

"I do try," Al says with a smirk.

It is, Snape decides, just as sickening to watch students act like lovesick puppies while being dead as it had been while being alive.

On the other hand, it is extremely satisfying to watch Al grimace when the bewigged witch insists on knowing all about the dress robes he is going to wear and telling him that his hair is just a bit too long.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter may feature an adult Al, or perhaps something to do with the Yule Ball. I haven't quite decided yet.**** Please review.**

**EDIT: A side note, if you will... No, I don't think Draco would have killed Harry during the last battle of Hogwarts as he was unable to kill Dumbledore. However, I think after 21 years that Harry can exaggerate a bit. :)**


	11. Calamity

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.**

**A/N: The name of the regular Celestina Warbeck album, 'You Stole My Cauldron but You Can't Have my Heart,' that I used in the 'Musicality' chapter came from the Harry Potter Lexicon and their sections on the little **_**Daily Prophet**_** articles JKR wrote once. However, the name of the Christmas album in this chapter is my own mediocre attempt. :)**

**A/N 2: In which Al and Dittany hide in the office after the Yule Ball of their seventh year (two years after the time Al asked her to the Yule Ball in the last chapter). **

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Calamity**

"Are we quite sure they won't think to look up here to kill you?" a girl's voice whispers on the stairs.

Snape is wide awake and not at all surprised to see a swish of an invisibility cloak as two seventh-year Gryffindors in dress robes emerge from underneath.

"We can only hope," says Al. "I suppose I could just tell the office to not let them enter." He holds up his unlit wand and points it at a candlestick resting on top of the display case filled with Dumbledore's silver trinkets and the sword of Gryffindor. "_Incendio_," he whispers, and then turns to smile up at the portraits. "Sorry about this."

"We couldn't sleep with the racket from the Yule Ball anyway," mutters Dilys Derwent in annoyance.

"Shouldn't you two be down with the racket?" asks the bewigged witch with a giggle.

"Probably," Al states with a shrug. "But we've been to three such rackets together, and, besides, we'd rather not be killed by my cousin or my sister."

"I'm not quite sure which of them would be worse," Dittany mumbles, as she fingers the sleeve of her pale green dress robe.

"Lily," replies Al. "Not to be stereotypical, but she's a Slytherin. You've seen what she can do in Dueling Club." Dittany nods and sits on a window seat to stare out at the Forbidden Forest.

"That is the first sensible point you have made, Potter," says Phineas Nigellus smugly.

Al rolls his eyes and stands next to where Dittany is sitting, twirling his wand over and over again between his fingers. "She isn't performing Dark Magic," he remarks with a sigh.

"And it isn't as if Rose lacks brains," Dittany adds. "She's a regular whiz like her mum."

"It's making me begin to think Ravenclaws just get placed in Gryffindor to boost our grades," Al mutters sarcastically.

"Ah, Gryffindors," says Snape wryly. "You all think everyone else does not know the secret of your house."

Al groans. "I'm sorry I walked into that."

"Anyway," says Dittany exasperatedly, "what are we going to do about this?"

"Lily and Rose and Score, you mean," Al mutters, as he suddenly turns somber. "Personally, I'm not quite sure how this happened."

"Well, Lily does spend about as much time with Score as Rose does with them both being in the same house and all," suggests Dittany.

"I can't believe Scorpius showed up to the Yule Ball a month after breaking up with Rose with my sister as his date!"

"A love triangle," Elizabeth, the witch in the wig, gushes.

"I think Score was more just trying to get Rose back," Dittany says.

"Ah, that is always a foolish thing to do," sighs Dippet.

Al begins, "And now Lily's…"

"… In love with him?" Dittany suggests.

"It must've been there for a while then," grumbles Al.

"You just had to open your big mouth when Score and Rose were talking nicely by the punch," Dittany sighs, "and say something ridiculous like, 'I'm glad you two are better. I was a little worried with you coming here with Lily, Score.'"

"How was I to know that Rose hadn't seen Scorpius and Lily come in together?" Al asks.

"Silly boy," teases Dittany.

Snape wants very badly to take twenty points from Gryffindor for nauseating displays, but he does not have that power any longer. He makes a mental note to discuss this with McGonagall later, despite knowing as well as everyone else that she will just shake her head and deny him his pleasure.

However, it does not help that Dittany and Al had been dating since the Yule Ball two years prior and that Dittany now snuck up to the office alone sometimes. She and Al were having contests with each other over who could learn a piano piece to gain the vote of the portraits (Dittany had been forced by her muggle mother to learn how to play the instrument at about the age of six, and she was mildly annoyed to hear that her boyfriend had learned all of the movements of the "Moonlight Sonata" and then some by memory after only three years of playing. She did, however, feel the need to tease him over knowing how to play every Celestina Warbeck song on her first album and her Christmas album, 'You Can Charm Me Under the Mistletoe, Baby.')

There is the sound of the moving staircase suddenly shifting into life, and the two teenagers in the office scramble for the invisibility cloak. The office is silent for a moment, and then the door bursts open.

McGonagall appears with an iron grip on the shoulder of Rose Weasley. Slughorn, flanked on either side by Scorpius and Lily, is behind them with Professor Longbottom in the rear.

Angrily, McGonagall sits at her desk. Snape watches out of the corner of his eye as Al quickly hides one of his trainers that had still been visible.

"Professor Longbottom, Professor Slughorn," says McGonagall presently. "As these three students' Heads of House, I believe it is your duty to properly take the necessary amount of points from them and any other punishment you deem fit."

"Yes, headmistress," says Neville Longbottom calmly, but Slughorn calls McGonagall by her first name.

"If I may," continues Neville, "I would like the talk to these three here alone as a friend of the families…" He smiles wearily, but McGonagall nods and turns to Slughorn.

"If you have no objections, Horace…"

"Of course not," says Slughorn. "I rather hoped to be able to return to the festivities."

"Yes," McGonagall agrees. "Then I defer this to you."

There is silence after two of the professors leave. Her robes torn clean off at the sleeves, Lily is leaning against a bookcase with a scowl on her pale face, while Scorpius droops next to the door and Rose stares at the ceiling.

Casually, Neville lets out a breath and waves his wand at the room. "_Homenum Revelio_!" he shouts. The space next to the window glows, and Neville steps forward to pluck the invisibility cloak off of the two hidden teenagers. Al and Dittany make loud protestations of their innocence, but Neville cuts them off with a hand.

"Now that we're all visible," he says with a gentle smile, "I think it's time for a talk without having to resort to going to your parents. Well, except for you, Dittany." His daughter groans.

"With muggles, we have to worry about physical weapons," Neville continues, as he sits behind McGonagall's desk. "With magical children such as yourselves, we have to worry about you seriously hurting each other with your spells, which can be considering more harmful in some cases." He pauses and frowns at each of them.

"Rose Perdita Weasley," he says, "I never want to see you perform _Diffindo _on another person's clothing ever again. You may think your aim is perfect, but I know you slipped and cut Lily's arms a little." Lily does not uncross her arms, but Snape can spot a little red on her skin where her sleeves had been. "Where is your brother, by the way?"

"Hugh is probably off with his girlfriend in the gardens," suggests Dittany after a long silence. "Not, I might add, doing anything more than stargazing."

"Ah, I see." Neville whispers. "Then, I can only assume the girl is Sarah Finder."

Dittany nods and then turns back to staring at a spot on the floor.

Sighing, Neville continues on with his opinions. "Lily Potter, I suggest next time you not use the Levitation Charm to pelt people with the entire contents of the refreshment table. You hurt some people with soaring glasses and bowls of punch." Lily grimaces and looks away. Neville nods to himself and then stares at Scorpius, who visibly flinches, "Scorpius Malfoy, I don't want to ever see you being foolish enough to scorn two women. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," whispers the blond boy.

"Albus Potter."

"Yes, Neville?" Al says happily.

"Has my daughter properly chastised you for running off at the mouth?"

"Yes… Professor Longbottom," says Al, sighing mournfully.

"Neville is still fine outside of the classroom, Al," states Neville with a chuckle. "I still have known you since the day you came into this world screaming louder than a mandrake."

Al smiles, and Neville leans back in his chair and regards his offspring. "Well, what should I tell you, Ditty?"

"That I should keep my friends on a shorter leash?" she suggests.

Neville laughs again and mutters, "Perhaps. You know, truly brave people have the courage to – "

" – Stand up to their friends," groans Dittany. "I know, Dad."

"Good," says Neville. There a silence in which Lily finally looks up and bites her lip guiltily. "Well then," the Herbology professor continues. "I think it's time for the punishment aspect of this. So, since there were two Slytherins directly involved, that will be thirty points from Slytherin and then fifteen points from Gryffindor."

Another silence and then Neville says, "Well, can I trust that you can all go to your respective common rooms without killing each other in the hallways?"

There is a chorus of variations on 'yes, sir.' "Wonderful," Neville states. "Then, off you all go."

All five students exit until only Professor Longbottom remains. He sits in McGonagall's chair for a while and then glances back at Snape specifically. "How was that for discipline, Professor Snape?" he asks amusedly.

"You were better than Potter would have been, I suspect," Snape admits. He is mildly annoyed that the student who most feared him in his entire teaching career is not overly bothered by him anymore. It makes him feel… well, _old_.

"That is a weak compliment, but I'll take it, I guess," Neville says with a laugh.

No one, Snape decides, appreciates Slytherin intimidation anymore.

* * *

**A/N: ****In the next chapter, we will probably finally get to see Al as an adult, graduated and hired at Hogwarts. It should be fun. Please review this chapter!**

**A/N 2: On another note, I gave Rose the middle name of Perdita, not because of the Dalmatian in **_**101 Dalmatians**_**, but for an entirely different reason (mostly because of her mother's name). You may find it interesting to look up. :) If not, basically, Hermione has a name from Shakespeare's _The Winter's Tale _and ****so does Rose now.**

**EDIT: SharkiesGirl brought up an excellent point about how the invisibility cloak was revealed by Neville, despite the myth in Deathly Hallows about it being undetectable. I would agree with her had I not read an interview with JKR in which she was asked: ****_"Why is it that Albus Dumbledore can see Harry under his invisibility cloak at certain moments? (during the series is the cloak only infallible to those who do not own a deathly hallow)?"_**

**To which she replied: _"Dumbledore, who could perform magic without needing to say the incantation aloud, was using 'homenum revelio.'"_**

**Like how the Elder Wand is supposed to be unbeatable (yet Dumbledore beat Grindlewald for it), the invisibility cloak is not perfect. The Deathly Hallows really are not exactly as they were in the myth, it seems.**


	12. Propensity for danger

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, and Dittany.**

**A/N: In which, well, Al becomes a man, albeit a bit of a reckless one… Okay, more than 'a bit,' but hey, it runs in the family. :) And I'm fairly certain that this chapter is considerably more serious than any of the others. (In other words, Al learns a lesson the hard way.) **

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Propensity (for danger)**

Twenty-five year old Professor Albus Severus Potter appears in the office on a freezing cold day around dusk. It is early January, and he is wearing a red and gold scarf wrapped around his face all the way up to his too green eyes. The rest of his head is topped with a black cap and when he removes his snowy cloak and robes, he is wearing two Weasley jumpers on underneath. The top one has a golden lion's head on scarlet, while the bottom one is green with 'AL' written across the chest.

He looks, Snape notes, nothing more than like a Weasley in that moment. Especially considering all of his hair is hidden so it is difficult to tell if it is red or not.

"Where's the headmistress?" croaks Al.

"Professor McGonagall went into Hogsmeade a few hours ago," replies Dumbledore.

"Bugger, I missed her," grumbles Al. "I suppose I'll just wait here then."

"Where have you been off to, my dear?" says Dilys Derwent, as Al strips off some of the extra layers.

"North Pole, it feels like," Al sighs.

"Your father always gives you the worst Order jobs," Phineas Nigellus says smugly. With his place hanging in the living room now, it is fairly easy for him to hear most of the happenings at the Order meetings at Grimmauld Place.

"It's his way of caring about my ego, I suppose," Al replies, as he tosses his now dripping wet cloak over the back of a chair by the fireplace as the snow and ice hanging off of it melts.

"Where were you really?" asks Dippet.

"London actually," groans Al, while plopping down in front of the fire. "Worst snow we've had in twenty years or something. Trying to catch a bleeding needle in it is a bear. Excuse me for a second." He clears his throat and shouts, "Winky!"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, sir," greets the house-elf upon appearing.

Al smiles and says kindly, "Would you mind bringing me some butterbeer, Winky?" Winky gushes about it being her pleasure and then returns a moment later with a tray stacked with bottles and mugs. (Al, perhaps having taken the story of Dobby and how he helped Winky to heart before dying for his father, seems to have made it his goal to discreetly look after Barty Crouch's former house-elf. Most of the time, this involves visiting the kitchens during the day when he feels up for a snack between his Transfiguration lessons.)

Al thanks her and pours himself a glass. As he downs his first mug, Snape can see the steam coming off of his magically drying hair as the warm liquid flows through him.

"That does the trick," Al says with amusement. "I was too cold to pull out my wand for a proper warming spell."

Snape finds that comment does not quite ring true. Al has not taken his gloves off, so it is difficult to see if anything is wrong with the young man's wand hand. However, there is something distinctly off about him. "You are not the type to go for Auror jobs, Potter," he remarks.

"You're right," Al admits. "But I'm not that terrible at it."

There is a moment when Snape believes that perhaps Al is really as carefree as he seems, but then there is a split second of rising horror on Al's face before he covers it with a newly-filled mug.

"Who was the Dark Wizard you went after, Potter?" Snape asks smoothly.

Al chokes on his drink. When he recovers, he frowns up at the Potions Master and sighs, "Ever observant."

He pauses to take another gulp of his drink. Only then does he say, "My father doesn't know yet, but James was hurt the night before last in London by someone not a Dark Wizard, but just as dangerous. He's been at large for the last thirty-some years after fleeing to Russia. He's only just returned and attacked a boy in Bristol."

"Fenrir Greyback," Snape states.

"How could no one catch that monster?" hisses the severe witch in the purple robes.

"Dad's been wanting to rush after him for years," explains Al, "and when Teddy graduated it became his personal mission to catch Greyback once he joined the Aurors." He sighs and adds, "However, Greyback changed many children in Russia and groomed them as his own for once. It was a smart thing to do, but when the Russian equivalent of Aurors infiltrated their location, Greyback crawled back here." His voice is hollow and dull like he is reading from a script. Snape suspects that he has read the file on Greyback so many times in the last two days that he has memorized it.

"What happened to the boy and James, Albus?" asks Dumbledore softly.

"The boy is now a werewolf, it seems," says Al slowly. "He is recuperating from his wounds and then he'll have to deal with it for the rest of his life, I suppose. James is badly scratched across his shoulder and he – " Al licks his lips and swallows loudly. "He lost a half a finger. He's in St. Mungo's right now, but no one's told Dad yet, as far as I know."

"You, untrained as an Auror and as a spy, went out after the most feared of lupine creatures," Snape states.

"How am I still alive?" Al mutters mournfully.

"Did you even run into Greyback?" asks Dilys Derwent, as she eyes him critically for injuries. For the first time, the portraits notice the two thin slashes across Al's throat just under the collar of the white button-down shirt underneath his 'AL' sweater. They are oozing a little, but no blood comes forth.

Al smiles ruefully and clutches the rug under his feet. "Oh, I certainly did. That's why I need to report back to the headmistress, as she's the head of the Order."

Snape scowls and says, "You are a fool, Potter. You should have sent a Patronus then. You've escaped from St. Mungo's, I suppose."

"I figured Madam Pomfrey would be just as capable to keep up my treatment," Al admits. "Besides, I can't do much with this hand right now." He strips off his gloves – first his left and then his right. After that, he removes the gauze wrapped around his wand hand until it is apparent that there are four terrible slashes, deeper than at his throat, across his palm. The wounds are flaps of skin that prevent his hand from moving from the pain.

"You are even more of a fool than I thought," Snape notes. "And you are avoiding your father," he adds pointedly. There is a figure in the doorway, but Al does not see the shadow across the floor nor hear the door opening.

Al grimaces. "I just wanted to wait for him to cool down a little more before he lectured me. I figured the storm might deter him."

"And you would be wrong," says the figure behind Al. The young man is so surprised that he almost launches himself into the fire. He shows the distinct characteristic of a fresh, new Auror with shot nerves, despite not being an official Auror.

"Dad," squeaks Al.

"When I showed up at your house," Harry Potter explains, as he slips off his heavy traveler's cloak and stops leaning against the doorjamb to come into the office, "your fiancée pointed out that she had sent an owl to your grandmother to see where your hand on the Weasley clock said you were."

"Ditty is clever like that," Al remarks. "Where exactly did it point at though? Technically, I'm at work and school."

"Your grandmother said it was pointing to both, interestingly enough," Harry replies. "Your hand splits."

"Well, that's clever," Al mutters, as he refuses to meet his father's eyes. "It wasn't at mortal danger at least."

"Right," admits Harry. There is a thick silence as Al rewraps his hand before his father can see the extent of the damage.

"So," Harry says slowly, as he walks around the office, "after eluding us for so many years, Fenrir Greyback is caught by the Hogwarts Transfiguration teacher boosted by rage and luck and a healthy knowledge of dueling spells."

"I did learn from the best," Al whispers at the floor.

"I can't take all of the credit, Al, so you can't use that in your favor," Harry says with a laugh.

"It was worth a shot."

"Now, why didn't you tell me so I could send in a team of Aurors? I didn't even know my oldest son had almost been killed by a werewolf, Al."

Al says nothing for a long time, so the only sounds in the room are those coming from the crackling fire and the icy wind smashing into the windows. "I guess I just wanted to see what it's like," Al quietly admits.

"And was it everything you'd hoped?" Harry asks wearily.

"No, no," Al hisses in despair. "I didn't want that. I was just being a stupid little boy thinking that I could avenge my big brother. I found the files in James' room and I had to follow all of his leads." He shudders and continues, "Greyback only grazed my neck, but I thought he was about to chop off my head. And then I tried to hex him but he slashed my wand hand and my wand went flying. I thought it'd broke."

(Snape wonders how Al even survived and how, in Merlin's name, he could be unbitten since he _did_ survive. There is, he knows, more than one way in which a person can die though – physically, psychologically, spiritually…)

"Even though the bulk of it happened before you were born, the war is not over, Al," Harry points out. "None of us can stop it alone."

"I understand," Al whispers. He finally looks up at his father and bites his lip painfully when he sees the caring and worry in the older face. He stands up and hugs Harry. "I'm sorry," he mumbles into his dad's shirt.

Harry releases him and smiles. "You can be a little proud of yourself, Al. You incapacitated a werewolf by yourself. Half of the people in the Auror Department under me would be dead if they faced one by themselves. Teddy was speechless."

"People do mad things in desperate times," Al mutters.

"You should have Madam Pomfrey look at your neck and hand," Harry notes. "Your scars are probably frostbitten."

"I told James I was going at least," Al grumbles.

"He told me," says Harry with a smile. They speak to each other softly for a while. Snape loses focus on the conversation and just watches the father and son who look so much alike. Al does not wear glasses, but the rings around his eyes are so dark that they almost give the illusion. They sit next to each other on the floor by the fire sipping butterbeer until McGonagall shows up and shakes her head at Al.

"Albus," she sighs. "I had hoped at least half of the rumors weren't true. I went straight to the Hospital Wing when I heard you had left St. Mungo's. Madam Pomfrey is angrily waiting for you."

Al smiles sheepishly and says, "I'll be off then before she uses a Summoning Charm on me."

"I believe Neville and Miss Longbottom are waiting there for you too," McGonagall adds, as she sits at her desk.

Al visibly flinches at her words as he stands up. "Oh," he mutters.

"I will see you at the Burrow in five hours or less, Al," Harry insists without looking over his shoulder at his son's retreating form.

"So Gram can skin me alive?" Al mutters.

"I believe Teddy and Victoire may have some words for you as well," Harry admits.

"Ye gads," grumbles the young man before vanishing through the door.

After a moment, the portraits' voices ring out. "How did he survive?" gasps Dilys Derwent over the top of the rest, voicing Snape's very thoughts.

"He told James that he had a vial of Confusing Concoction in his pocket that he nicked from James' room," says Harry, as he stands up from his spot by the fire to sit on a chair in front of McGonagall's desk. "He threw it at Greyback after his hand was slashed, which gave him just enough time to grab his wand and Full Body-Bind him. I'm not sure about the rest."

(It all makes Snape think about the second Lily Potter, who has grown up to be a sort of a Potions Master – she had proclaimed herself not a Mistress or Madam – at the Ministry. He decides he will not be all that surprised if she discovers a cure for Lycanthropy.)

Al returns about twenty minutes later, as Harry and McGonagall are debriefing, with his hand and neck wounds smelling fragrant and flowery from some dittany and the undercurrent of a foul scent that Snape recognizes as chickweed. In his last thirty or so years as a portrait, he has never figured out how some canvas and paint can smell, but he does not question it.

Al looks noticeably better, although he ignores Harry when he tries to bring up the subject of Neville and Dittany Longbottom. Instead, he tosses a pinch of powder from the jar on the mantel and then says he might as well get it over with at the Burrow. In a flash of green flame, he vanishes.

"I had better go too," Harry says. "Teddy was actually ready to chew his ear off for taking that risk."

"Will James be there? I would like to talk to him," McGonagall states.

"Unfortunately, they were trying a new regenerative potion on his finger," Harry answers with a grimace. "We found out that he's allergic to boiled Antarctic icefish scales."

Snape raises his eyebrows a little. He really wishes he could be alive just to see the innovations in potions.

After a moment, Al reappears in the fire coughing. "I changed my mind," he announces. "You first, Dad."

"I can't protect you from your grandmother."

"Well, at least protect me from Aunt Fleur and Victoire," whines Al, as he rubs at his head. "After they hugged me, they were screaming at me in French. I can't even use my wand right now."

Harry pats him on the back and says to McGonagall, "I'll let you know when James gets out of St. Mungo's, professor."

"And, no fear, I'll be back for the start of term," Al says with a polite nod. The, the two Potters leave the office through the Floo Network.

Snape thinks about the look of horror that had passed over Al's face when he was sitting on the floor drinking butterbeer even long after the room is nearly silent again. The only sounds come from the scratching of McGonagall's quill across parchment and quiet whispers between portraits.

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**A/N: No, this isn't the end. Al still has a few adventures left and not all of them are adult ones. He also may have to deal with some of the issues he's facing after having gone on his own full-fledged 'battle' for the first time and against a werewolf like Fenrir Greyback at that.**

**A/N 2: Yes, James is married by the time this chapter takes place. No, it isn't any character we've met because, frankly, not everyone marries someone they met in school (despite the fact that almost everyone in canon seems to, aside from Lupin and Tonks…). I have a chapter in the works for Al and Dittany in the office after they've married, but we'll see if I post that next or not. :) I'm thinking that one might end up being the last chapter whenever I feel like this story is over because it brings everything full circle.**

**Thanks for reading. Please review.**


	13. Sensitivity

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, Dittany, and Fabian.**

**A/N: Fabian Finch-Fletchley is dedicated to redrose2312. I would've named him Finnius like you wanted, but that just sounds like Phineas. :) Anyway… We return to Al's sixth year, where Al is sensitive about his faults and Ditty uses muggle references…

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**Chapter Thirteen: Sensitivity**

At a quarter to midnight in September, a sixth-year Al Potter appears in the office and plops down on the floor. On his back, he stares up at the ceiling forlornly without voicing more than a small greeting. Finally, after about twenty dramatic sighs from the boy, Snape dryly asks, "Must you bring us your melodrama?"

Al groans and covers his eyes with his hands.

"Fine. Out with it, Potter, so we can finish this before dawn."

"I got my buttocks handed to me today by a boy in love with Dittany," Al announces after another deep sigh.

There are several giggles from the portraits before Dilys Derwent lets out an exasperated sound to silence them all. "I'm sure it'll be fine, dear," she insists. "Was it a duel then?"

"If you could call it that."

"Well, you're still captain of the dueling club."

"Well, I was, but now he's claiming he is," Al admits.

"You'll just have to duel him again, of course," Derwent insists.

"I don't think I even want to stay here anymore," grumbles Al. "Ditty's sure to realize now that I'm a fraud of a dueler, despite me teaching her all those spells."

"You know your theory at least," Derwent states.

Al scoffs and says, "Well, yes, but that certainly isn't going to help much in the real world."

"You – "

"If I'd been born thirty years ago, I would've been killed by Voldemort," Al moodily admits.

"That is not necessarily a black mark upon you, Potter," Snape remarks.

"Your death was not the same thing."

"It is the same end," replies Snape.

"You didn't die at his hand out of incompetence!" Al yells, sitting up.

"And so you would have fought the war in a different way to suit your own strengths," Snape says.

Al grimaces and crosses his arms. Staring sullenly at the floor, he mutters, "James said…"

"Do you have an original thought in your head, Potter?" demands Snape. "I can assure you that your siblings and Dittany Longbottom and your five thousand Weasley cousins and everyone else you have ever met do not hate you for such a foolish reason as possessing a fault."

"A fault," Al tests the word. "Is that all it is?"

"It can be overcome."

"My dad never learned Occulmency," Al remarks.

"Do you really believe that that argument sways me?"

"Good point." Al sighs and adds, "I freeze up in duels."

"Perhaps you should speak with your father about this," Dumbledore suggests. "He may just be able to figure out a way for you to overcome this fear."

"Maybe," Al mutters. Snape is reminded of the boy as an eleven year old. He frowns and wants very much to have the ability of knock some sense into him. Literally.

"And Miss Longbottom does not hate you for knowing theory and teaching it to her," Dumbledore continues. "How are _her_ dueling skills?"

"Decent," admits Al. There is something clearly eating at him still, as he twirls his wand in his hand. Finally, he bites his lip and then bursts out, "And who gets beaten by a kid named Fabian Finch-Fletchley? Who names their kid that?"

"So says a boy named Albus Severus Potter," states Dittany Longbottom, as she steps into the office. Al scrambles to his feet, stuttering over her name, and then ends up back on the floor when he trips over the back of his robe.

Dittany smiles and strolls towards him. "Feeling better after that outburst?" she asks.

"No," Al whispers, as he stares at the floor.

"Well, cheer up," Dittany says. "Abby decked Fabian in the face after he badmouthed you."

"She punched her half-brother?" Al says, almost amusedly, before he grimaces. "I don't think that's going to save my honor much."

"Well, aren't you Beowulf or Gilgamesh with all of their fancy words of honor and strength," Dittany remarks. "I am Albus Severus Potter, son of Harry Potter, and I come on this quest!" she announces dramatically.

"You're not helping much," Al grumbles. "And your reference goes a bit above me."

"Read up on muggle literature, silly," Dittany says. "My mum is a muggle English teacher for Pete's sake."

Al smiles a little at the obvious lack of Merlin in her words. In their second year, Dittany had giggled endlessly when he had exclaimed, "Merlin's pants! Who's Peter?"

"I read that wretched list of books you told me to in order to get some of your references," Al replies. "_Crime and Punishment_ could've been about two hundred pages shorter, _The Great Gatsby_ wasn't terrible (it wasn't great either), and _Great Expectations_ was rubbish. I will have nightmares of that Miss Havisham woman."

"I'm surprised you didn't comment on _Lord of the Flies_."

"Oh, don't get me started on that one," Al groans. "Although," he adds thoughtfully, "I'm not so sure I wouldn't beat James to death if I was stuck on a deserted island with him and a pig head."

Dittany laughs and lightly ruffles his hair. "C'mon, Albus Sev," she says. "I think you and I need to switch roles in dueling. I'll be the Jedi Knight and you can be the Padawan."

"What in the world are you talking about?" Al demands with his face contorted in a mixture of mirth and confusion.

"I'm going to have to introduce you to muggle films too, aren't I?"

"Hey, at least our photos move," Al contends.

"We'll watch some Star Wars when you visit over the summer when you can't take Grimmauld Place anymore."

"Star Wars?"

"Oh, you silly wizards," mutters Dittany. "Now, c'mon," she insists. "The Room of Requirement waits for us bright and early in the morning, but first we need sleep."

"_Yes, Ditty_."

Snape really has no idea what the two are arguing over as they leave, but the book references remind him a little of his mother's bookshelves at Spinner's End before she died. Despite being a witch, his mother had always loved muggle things (toasters and Shakespeare especially for some reason, he remembers), despite them leading to her marrying Tobias Snape.

When he had become a Death Eater, he had taken all of those books and placed them in boxes to keep away all muggle items and remembrances of his childhood. Then, after his death, all of his possessions had been stored away until his portrait was finally made. A Ministry official (he thinks it was Percy Weasley actually) had visited him with a list and asked him where he wanted each item to go. His Potions books had gone to the school library, and he did not particularly care what became of his clothes. The house had been sold because he saw almost no good memories from it.

However, the pictures of Lily Potter had gone to Harry, and Snape's mother's books had found a place on a shelf in McGonagall's office until he could decide who should receive them (some sixteen years before).

Snape has a feeling that, if he were into those sorts of maudlin sentiments, that he would consider giving them to Dittany and Al in the likely event that they married.

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**A/N: And so we learn about **_**one**_** of the times that Al freaked out in a duel, and, although his fight against Greyback was a bit different than that, he is still, even at age twenty-five, going to have some issues with those insecurities. His dad, uncle, brother, and Teddy are all excellent Aurors, which doesn't make him feel the greatest.**

**I won't really mention that topic again in this story. However, I am planning on writing a little side story surrounding the characters when Al is twenty-five and the trials he goes through after fighting Greyback. Al comes to realize that some of the people he has come to rely on may hold some secrets (resulting in Snape having to save his life).**

**That story is already underway and, finally, we will step out of the office for a while for it, as **_**Complexity**_** winds down here.**

**A/N2: Oh, Al's book preferences may or may not reflect my own opinions of the works. :) Also, in case you were curious, Justin Finch-Fletchley's son Fabian came from various talks of triple-F names with redrose2312 on the school bus. Justin actually had Abigail Abbott with Hannah Abbott, but they never married… hence why Fabian and Abby are half-siblings. But that, my friends, is a story for another day.**

**Please review!**


	14. Fragility

_**Complexity**_

_By ChocolateEclar_

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or places, although I do own this story and some elements of the characterizations of Al Potter, his siblings and their cousins, ****Ben, Abigail, Dittany, and Fabian.**

**A/N: In which Al is twenty-five again. This takes place about a week after the events of chapter twelve. Please review.

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**Chapter Fourteen: Fragility**

"While its editor-in-chief and its main journalist are out of commission, _Blunt_ will be running under the head of its Political and Controversy Columns and part-time journalist, Lily Gwenog Potter (and yes, her middle name comes from the name of the former captain of the Holyhead Harpies)…"

Snape is almost ashamed to be reading James Potter's newspaper long after that first article he read that Al and James collaborated on. However, it is vaguely addicting finding out about the world today from the point of view of various Ministry workers and Hogwarts students and staff (the interview with Filch on Hogwarts was particularly entertaining). And, he has to admit, Al's articles have always been an amusing take on the world.

Lily, on the other hand, generally fills her column with witty words against the _Prophet_ and the people that take it for fact with the occasional article on the latest in potion discoveries that intrigue him.

While James and Albus are recuperating at the Burrow under Molly Weasley's care (despite Al's insistence that his fiancée Dittany is perfectly capable of taking care of him at their own home) the newspaper has apparently gone to Lily. Naturally then, all of the articles are about such topics as the history of corruption in the Ministry and how Kingsley has helped to change that, magical stress disorders, and the lack of knowledge of basic mathematics, sciences, and muggle studies in wizarding children today.

(Snape knows from Professor Albus Potter's visits to the office that Lily has been dating a Squib by the name of Geoffrey Peace for some time and that had driven her to fight for more laws to help with muggle relationships.)

Snape is reading an article on prejudices still in existence against Muggle-borns and Half-bloods when Al steps from the fireplace. He coughs and brushes some soot from his shoulders before addressing the portraits. "Good day, my friends." There is a general wave of greeting from the paintings on the walls.

"Have you escaped, Potter?" Snape asks with only a glance up at him over the newspaper.

"From the clutches of my gram?" Al responds. "Of course." He has not bothered putting on more than one jumper this time. It is a deep plum color with a gold canine emblazoned on the front. Snape knows, because McGonagall received one in the office on Christmas morning the year before, that every member of the Order received a jumper from Molly Weasley with their Patronus sewn onto the front. He has seen Al's only once and, thus, knew it to be a fox even before seeing the clothing.

Al plops down on the chair in front of the desk and says, "I'm glad to see the office still likes randomly admitting me. I needed to get out of there, so I figured I'd come here like old times."

"But you left James to your grandmother?" Dumbledore asks with a smile.

"James is a bore right now," Al replies. "He just lies in bed and sleeps or he whines about how being without half a finger has ruined his good looks. His wife may be able to stand his pitiful complaining, but I need a break."

The fire flickers and then a face appears above the embers. "Albus Severus, your grandmother is looking for you," Harry sighs.

"I'm twenty-five, Dad," Al points out.

Harry raises an eyebrow and replies, "Well, I would say that's fine normally, but right now I won't get an ounce of work done if your gram keeps owling me to say you're still gone from your bed. I would like to get the paperwork for your little… mission out of the way today."

"Don't you have lackeys for that?"

"I can't force your uncle Ron to do it, as he just tells me to stuff it when I even suggest it," replies Harry, smiling, "and Teddy is terrible at paperwork.. That leaves the rest of the staff, and I didn't tell most of them much on the subject in order to keep this out of the public eye until closer to the trial."

Al smirks and then asks "When's Greyback's trial?"

"January twentieth," Harry answers. "It's going to take ages to gather all of the documents on some sixty, maybe seventy, years of crimes." He grimaces and glances over his shoulder and then back to Al again. "By the way, don't you read your own newspaper? Lily wrote up a whole article on it." Snape read it. His favorite bit had been: "Of course, as Potters are prone to extreme bouts of recklessness and insanity, which the author of this article can say as a fellow Potter, Albus Potter was the one to apprehend Greyback."

"Oh, I didn't proof it," Al admits. "I figured she had it covered. James just glanced at the article titles, shook his head, and said, 'Whatever, Lil.'"

"Please return to the Burrow so I can work, Al."

Al rolls his eyes but stands up obediently. "All right, but first I need to go see Madam Pomfrey about some more salve for James and me."

"I thought James was supposed to make some for both of you," Harry states.

"He did last time," Al explains, "but he has been so drugged on pain-relieving potions that he switched two ingredients on the first attempt and blackened everything in the room with all of the soot that emerged from it. Next will be his eyebrows and then an eye, I bet."

"All right," concedes Harry. "I'll tell the Burrow."

Harry's face vanishes from the fire, as Al leaves.

Al arrives back in the office about twenty minutes later with his arms laden with jars of salve. Snape recognizes the smell as the same mixture of dittany and chickweed that had been spread over Al on the first day, but there is a bit of something else that is not quite a definite smell. Al sets the jars on the chair by the fire and unwraps the gauze from his hand.

"Madam Pomfrey said this was a fresh new batch that came from Neville's garden," Al says. He opens a jar to scoop some of the forest green lotion-like stuff out and onto the wounds on his neck and hands.

Forest green. Dittany and chickweed should combine to make a pale green salve. What would make it darker, Snape wonders?

Al smoothes some of the mixture out over his neck and rubs it into the lines there. Then, he scrapes out a smaller clump and spreads it over the top of his hand. He starts to twist the cap back on the jar when his right hand cramps at an odd angle. He tries to move his fingers, but they jerk and when he touches his right with his left, his left freezes uncomfortably.

"Moonseed," Snape whispers. "The reaction with moonseed makes dittany and chickweed forest green."

Al turns to look at him but his legs lock, and he collapses on the floor. The jar that he had been using drops from his hand and rolls away. Weakly, he claws at the carpet with his bent fingers and manages to loosely grab his fallen wand. He calls forth his Patronus – the silvery fox springs forth much more slowly than normal and tips its head to Al. Al gasps out one message for it: "Help!" Then, his wand drops from his grip as his Patronus dashes out.

Snape is gone from his portrait before he can think of anything else to do. He swoops through the castle paintings – pushing several frilly-dressed ladies at a tea party out of his way on the second floor, and then shoves the grouchy old man out of the portrait in Slughorn's office. "Bring a bezoar and some powdered root of Devil's Claw!" he shouts at the Potions teacher sitting behind the desk.

"What has happened, Severus?" Slughorn exclaims.

"Bring them to the headmistress's office!"

Snape launches himself back through the paintings to the office (this time, the ladies at the tea party smack him with their bags as he swoops by, but he has little time to hex them).

In the office, there is panic. Dilys Derwent is shouting medicinal remedies at Al, who just gasps and shakes his head. "Eye of Newt on the salve might counteract it!" Derwent yells.

"He could not comprehend you even if he was not a dunderhead at Potions," Snape hisses. "The poison is making it difficult to breath. He has little oxygen to his brain."

Al seems to understand that, as he turns his head towards Snape and his eyes go wide. The white of his eyes is turning a green to rival his irises. The effect is, to Snape, disturbing.

In the end, it takes Slughorn three minutes to pull himself up the stairs. He is wheezing and stumbling with the ingredients clutched in his grip, but he takes one look at the prostrate form on the floor, as Al twitches and moans and his skin begins to turn green along with the whites of his eyes, and flips him over to stuff the bezoar down his throat. Al coughs but swallows, as Slughorn pours the powdered Devil's Claw root into a bowl he has conjured and mutters, "_Aguamenti_!" into it. The bowl fills with water so that the powder makes it chalky white. He then tips up Al's head and pours the concoction into his mouth.

The portraits are deadly silent as they wait for another sign of life from Al. Slowly, his color returns to normal, and only then do his eyes flicker open. "Professor Slughorn!" he gulps, as he tries to sit up and only ends up lying on his back again.

"Good to see you recovering, my boy," Slughorn says somberly.

"Send a letter to the Weasleys and Potters, Horace," Snape points out. "The boy will have to go to St. Mungo's to purge the rest of the moonseed from his system."

"Boy?" coughs Al with a weak smirk. "And what do you mean by purge?"

"It won't be fun," Slughorn offers, as he staggers to his feet in order to grab a sheet of parchment and a quill from McGonagall's desk. He dips it in her green ink bottle and scribbles a quick note. After folding it, he places it in his pocket, while turning back to Al. He carefully moves Al's body with a few spells and then guides him to the fire. They Floo out of the office, and then there is a silence in the office again.

A minute later, McGonagall dives through the office with the fox Patronus trailing behind her gracefully. "Where has Al Potter gone?" she hisses.

"Horace has been kind enough to take the poor boy to St. Mungo's," Dumbledore announces. The Patronus, apparently satisfied then that her work was done, nods and vanishes.

McGonagall picks up the open jar on the floor. "Don't touch the salve, Minerva," Snape warns. "You must inform Poppy of the contamination of her stock."

"I assume then that you were the one to send for Slughorn to save Al then," McGonagall says with a tight smile.

"We didn't need a dying Potter making noise in the office," Snape replies.

"Of course," says McGonagall. She sighs wearily and adds, "How did the salve become poisoned?"

"As someone probably did not add moonseed to each and every one of the jars and Slughorn is not an idiot potion-maker," Snape explains, "I suspect the dittany or chickweed plants were sprinkled with moonseed leaf shavings or powdered root."

"I will talk to Neville, but he probably saw nothing," McGonagall mutters. "And he would not poison his godson."

The following day, Al enters the office with a hydration potion band around his wrist. It is one of the inventions that had come out from the Ministry not long after Snape's death. Al obediently holds it up for Snape to inspect and then plops down in the middle of the floor like he used to as a child. (It magically transmits the potion into Al every hour to keep him well hydrated. Snape is fairly sure he knows the student who created it, but he cannot quite remember.)

"Have the minds of the Order and the Ministry deduced how you were poisoned, Albus?" Dumbledore asks. He sits with his hands folded in his lap and eyes Al over the top of his spectacles.

"No," Al replies, grimacing. "However, James told me that if I were any good at Potions that I would've known what the color of the salve meant." He rolls his eyes and continues, "I told him to 'come off it' and he tossed the crisps and gherkins crud he had his wife bring him, when Gram wasn't looking, at my head for almost dying again."

He pauses and whispers, "I think I may have a theory on the poisoning, but it isn't the time to talk about it." He smiles and continues, "So, I apologize for having to do this to you, but I must thank you for saving my life, Professor Snape."

Snape scowls at the young man, who just smirks more. "Sorry," Al says, "I can't help being a bit polite every once in a while. However, I'm about to be rude and say, 'I doubt you did it as some homage to my grandmother's memory.'"

"Sharing a name does not cause a bond between us," Snape notes. "I simply did not wish to see your body writhing on the floor with Slughorn sitting around doing nothing at all."

"You know," Al says conversationally, "that that is a sodding lie. I've been coming to this office for near-on fifteen years. I think you can work up a little caring for me without my bleeding family tree at this point."

"Sorry to interrupt this heartfelt conversation," says a voice from the fireplace, "but there's a pack of Weasleys that want to know why you've run off to the office again. Your grandmother is convinced that you're going to get poisoned once more."

Al turns to his dad's image above the flames and rolls his eyes. "I sent Wiggy on ahead with a message that I'd be at the Burrow by dusk. If not, then they were free to send some Aurors after me because I'd probably almost died again."

"That explains why Molly was so peeved," sighs Harry. "She'll lock you in a room," he adds.

"Fine, fine," groans Al. "I'm knackered anyway. I promised Ditty I'd stop by the Burrow and then head to our place for supper, though, so I won't be under Gram's care for long. I do have a wedding to think about, you know."

"I know as well as you do that Ditty, your mum, and Gram are the ones doing any real planning for that," Harry points out.

"It _is_ better that way," Al admits. "They insist that I'm colorblind."

"The green was a nice pick," Harry says.

"Lily says she's had enough green to last her a lifetime," Al points out. "However, Dittany liked it anyway. She said it would go nicely with my eyes or something."

Harry smiles a tad ruefully. "I suppose it would," he mutters. In a moment, his smile quickly returns to one full of happiness again, and he adds, "I have to go. I'll see you in person on Saturday for some answers the Wizengamot needs for the Greyback trial."

"Sure," Al says, shrugging.

"And don't get into any more battles with potions until then." Harry's face crinkles with a mixture of concern, resignation, and a little bit of amusement.

Al nods and maintains that he will certainly try to stay out of danger. "I suppose," he adds, "that you'll be creating a task force or something to investigate the potion incident."

"I won't be able to," Harry admits. "We're spread thin in this department with Greyback and all the ruckus over the murder of Dolores Umbridge."

"Aren't most people, well, happy about that?" Al says with a frown. "I don't mean I am. Murder's a bit… _extreme_, but she did torture kids and hated everyone and such."

"Yeah," his father says, "especially people of my generation who had a year of that at Hogwarts. And then not to mention the Muggle-borns she harassed. However, we still have to look into it after the _Prophet_ claimed it could easily be someone within our own department since most of us were 'Dumbledore's Army-type characters.' Whatever that means."

"That was nice of them," Al grumbles. "_Blunt_ posted a rebuttal article."

"I saw. I was surprised Lily didn't write it."

Al shrugs and rubs his tired eyes with his knuckles. "She figured someone of your generation should," he explains. "So Neville wrote it with some help from Luna and Mr. Thomas, as he's Muggle-born and was on the run from the Ministry at the time."

"I wasn't aware that Dean much liked talking about that," Harry sighs.

"I went and visited him," says the younger Potter. "He said he'd only do it because he didn't want your department dragged through the mud."

Harry's face flickers for a moment as the fire rises a little. His smile shows the same sort of sadness that Snape recognizes from most of the Order after the First War. "I'll thank him," he says.

"I'll be back in an hour, Dad," Al mutters.

"Fine," Harry says just as softly. "Half the staff is out investigating Umbridge's home today, so I need to get back to work."

Al nods and the face in the fireplace disappears. He sits back, leaning on his hands, and spreads out his trainer-clad feet. The shoes are a bright neon blue. The color reminds Snape of the last time the second Lily Potter came into the office with her red hair dyed.

"Lily's hair is now purple," Al says, when he notices Snape looking. "I think she decided the blue was too depressing or something, despite it being blinding. My grandmother is still appalled and Uncle Percy said it's a bit un-Weasleylike. I just think it's a bit Teddy-ish. Teddy finds it amusing."

The flames flicker again and another face appears. "Wotcher, Al," Teddy says. Snape grimaces a little at the bright pink hair on the young man's head. It is too much like how his young mother's was, and, despite how annoying he often found Nymphadora Tonks (er, well, Nymphadora Lupin, that is), he had never really considered the possibility of her rushing off to battle not long after the birth of her baby. He hadn't even known of Teddy until becoming a portrait in the office, and then he had felt almost melancholy for a while after he had discovered the truth.

"How's Vic?" Al interrupts the tirade that he undoubtedly knows is about to occur.

"She went to St. Mungo's this morning for a check-up. Otherwise," he says darkly, "I would've stopped ya from making Molly go mad 'gain."

Al smiles a little. "I have lesson plans to fill out," he claims.

"You soddin' liar," Teddy accuses good-naturedly. "You don't have a plan outta paper bag."

"I have an Auror mentality then."

"Oooh," Teddy breathes. "That was good."

The two men bicker for another fifteen minutes. Eventually, Al yawns and admits that he needs to sleep. "Having problems wi' it?" Teddy asks.

Every once in a while, Teddy possesses a thicker, informal pronunciation that Snape would not normally expect from a boy growing up with Andromeda Tonks née Black as his guardian. (Then again, he reminds himself, Nymphadora had come from the same household…)

"A little," Al replies. "I've got it covered though."

"Sure," Teddy remarks skeptically. His eyebrows go up, and Snape notices for the first time that they are purple instead of the pink of his mop of hair. "Well, I'll let ya be. If you're gonna be my tot's godfather, than you'd better take care o' yourself."

"I will say this for the hundredth time," Al says, voicing Snape's own thoughts, "where did you learn your English, mate?" Teddy smirks at him, as Al adds, "I swear you spend too much time imitating characters for those wild stories you're always telling. Your wife can speak two languages properly, what are you teaching this godson or goddaughter of mine?"

"Well, I may need to borrow the Marauder's Map…"

Snape grimaces, as Al chuckles. For the first time in days, his face lights up and he grins at the fire. "Fourth generation mischief makers," he says happily.

"Or third for my kid," Teddy adds.

"True," agrees Al. "Well, as I need to make like Han Solo and sleep, but not in carbonite… Never mind, you're not Ditty and that was a terrible use of pop culture."

"Right you are, genius," Teddy says. "I don't follow any of your lame telescreen references."

"Telescreen is actually what was in _1984_ by George Orwell – "

"Yeah, yeah, I know, Big Brother and all," Teddy sighs. "You explained that story to me a billion times. You want to sleep. I got it."

"Thanks. Bye, Teddy."

"I'll see ya tomorrow, Al."

After Al is long gone, Snape realizes that he did not find out who Al thinks tried to poison him.

* * *

**A/N: So, the next chapter should be the last, but before I upload that I will likely post the first part of the side story, **_**Capability**_**, which will deal with the mystery surrounding Al's poisoning, how he deals with his fight with Greyback, and his engagement to Ditty (and how it gets postponed about a million times…). The next chapter may give some stuff away for that, but you still won't know who poisoned Al, so please check out **_**Capability**_** when I post it. :)**

**By the way, **_**Capability**_** will actually be in chorological order with chapters connecting more fluidly and story-like than **_**Complexity**_**'s little collection of vignettes.**

**Thank you, reviewers of the last chapter. Please review this one, everyone. Thanks again!**


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